Phenomenal Cosmic Power
by Cyclone
Summary: Reposted from Spacebattles. Self-insert fusion with a Mutants & Masterminds character I once played.
1. Character Sheet

"Yeah, I know I look like I'm sixteen. In fact, I'll probably **still** look like I'm sixteen when you've died of old age and rotted to dust. _So give me a little credit here!_ "

Centuria, aka Callie Troy (Power Level 12)  
Str +10/+0 (30/10), Dex +3 (16), Con +10/+0 (30/10), Int +0 (10), Wis +2 (14), Cha +2 (14)

 **Combat:** Attack +10 or +12 (cosmic blast), Damage +10 melee (unarmed) or +10 melee cone (shockwave or super-breath ) or +10 melee burst (thunderclap ) or +12 ranged (cosmic blast), Grapple +24 (attack 10 + Str 10 + Super-Strength 4) or +28 (attack 10 + Move Object 18), Defense 20 (14 flatfooted), Initiative +7 (Dex 3 + 4 feat)

Toughness +14 (Impervious 10; +10 w/o Force Field), Fort +10 (0 pp), Ref +7 (4 pp), Will +10 (8 pp)

 **Skills**  
Bluff +8/+12 (6 ranks + Cha 2 + 4 feat)  
Concentration +12 (10 ranks + Wis 2)  
Diplomacy +8/+12 (6 ranks + Cha 2 + 4 feat)  
Knowledge (history) +4 (4 ranks + Int 0)  
Knowledge (technology) +8 (8 ranks + Int 0)  
Notice +9 (7 ranks + Wis 2)  
Search +8 (8 ranks + Int 0)  
Sense Motive +9 (7 ranks + Wis 2)

 **Feats**  
Accurate Attack  
Attractive  
Dodge Focus 3  
Improved Initiative  
Interpose  
Jack-of-All-Trades  
Luck  
Power Attack  
Second Chance (Concentration checks)  
Taunt  
Ultimate Skill (Concentration)

 **Powers**  
 _Cosmic Awareness_ : Super-Senses 2 (cosmic awareness, benefit ) (2 pp)  
 _Cosmic Energy Control_ : Array 19 (38 points; Power Feats: Alternate Power 4, Dynamic 5) (47 pp)  
AP: _Channelling_ : Power Reserve 17 (asterisked powers; Power Feats: Additional Power 3) (5-37)  
AP: _Cosmic Blast_ : Damage 12 (Extra: Range ; Power Feats: Accurate, Homing, Indirect 2, Precise) (7-29)  
AP: _Cosmic Constructs_ : Create Object 12 (Extra: Movable; Power Feats: Affects Insubstantial, Progression) (5-38)  
AP: _Cosmic Healing_ : Healing 12 (Extra: Total; Power Feats: Persistent, Regrowth) (5-38)  
AP: _Telekinesis_ : Move Object 18 (heavy load 3,200 tons; Power Feats: Precise, Subtle) (4-38)  
*Flight 5 (250 mph; Power Feats: Moving Feint, Subtle) (12 pp)  
 _Force Field_ : Protection 4 (Extras: Force Field, Impervious 10; Power Feat: Subtle) (15 pp)

 _Telepathy_  
*Communication 2 (100 feet, mental) (2 pp)  
Comprehend 2 (languages 2 ) (4 pp)  
Mind Reading 2 (2 pp)

 _Ultiman Physiology_  
*Enhanced Strength 20 (20 pp)  
Enhanced Constitution 20 (20 pp)  
Immunity 12 (aging, life support, starvation, need for sleep) (12 pp)  
*Regeneration 2 (unconscious 1 1/round, resurrection 1 1/week; Extra: True Resurrection 1; Power Feats: Persistent, Regrowth) (5 pp)  
*Super-Strength 4 (heavy load 12 tons; Power Feats: Countering Punch, Shockwave, Super-Breath, Thunderclap) (12 pp)

Base Attack: +10  
Base Defense: +7

Abilities 14 + Skills 14 (56 ranks) + Feats 13 + Powers 153 + Combat 34 + Saves 12 - Drawbacks 0 = Total 240

 **Trade-Offs:** Up to -2 Atk/+2 Max DC, -2 Def/+2 Max Tough

 **Complications**  
Accident (social; she's still learning about the outside world)  
Enemy (Alpha-Centurion)  
Enemy (Omega, Lord of the Terminus; less for her actions than for the legacy she carries)  
Enemy (Superior)  
Fame (only apparent heir to the Centurion legacy)  
Secret (identity)  
Secret (Superior's half-sister)  
Temper (being treated like a kid by people younger than her)

 **Description**  
Centuria is a slender girl who looks about age sixteen. She has short black hair and bright blue eyes, and her figure-hugging blue and white costume is clearly modeled after that of the late Centurion.

In her guise as Callie Troy, Kal-Zor wears a pair of horn-rimmed glasses, a blonde wig that goes down to the middle of her back, and loose and purposely unflattering clothing.

 **Personality**  
Centuria is a confident paragon of heroism, always ready to help out, and a pillar of confidence for her teammates. She's also more than a little flirtatious and often uses her stunning good looks to her advantage. She's working on her taunts, but she hasn't quite gotten the hang of them yet. She holds herself to a higher standard most of the time, but all bets are off when dealing with the truly despicable.

Callie Troy is a shy and introverted teenager who typifies the word "wallflower." She's constantly reading something - magazines, science fiction novels, the Bible, history books - and it doesn't really matter to her what. Most of her peers think she's pretty weird.

The real Kal-Zor is somewhere in between the two personalities she puts on for the world. While lively and energetic, she's also a little fearful of making a social faux pas, due to the very different culture she grew up in; that, along with a deliberate contrast to help conceal her secret identity, helped define the personality she uses when in the guise of Callie Troy. Her civilian identity's habit of constantly reading stems from her very real driving curiousity about the outside world. Kal-Zor's greatest fear, however, is that she will somehow fail to live up to the legacy she is carrying.

 **Background**  
Kal-Zor's story began in World War II. When members of the German Thule Society came to Ultima Thule and were turned away, Kal-Zed left Ultima Thule to pursue his ambition. Although the Ultimans washed their hands of Kal-Zed, his mother, Kal-Zin, followed him, seeking to return him to the fold. With Centurion's blessing, she donned the guise of the original Centuria and sought out her son on the battlefields of World War II.

With the fall of Hitler's Third Reich, Kal-Zin felt that Kal-Zed would surely return to his people, having worked through this phase, but she was wrong. Her son agreed to meet with her and ambushed her. Although her injuries were not fatal - and by extension, given her Ultiman heritage, not serious - the wounds to her heart would never heal. For a time, Kal-Zin grew despondent, giving up the identity of Centuria but refusing to return to Ultima Thule. The rarity of births among the Ultimans only magnified the failure she perceived in herself over her son's actions. It was during this time that Steven Troy, a green American soldier whose life she saved during the war, paid her back for saving his life. He helped her get through the grief and guilt, supporting her emotionally, and eventually, they fell in love and married. When Kal-Zin finally returned to her home in Ultima Thule, Steven went with her. There, they had a daughter, Kal-Zor (whom Steven affectionately called "Callie"), who grew up hearing from her parents tales of the outside world... and her brother.

When Omega attacked Freedom City in 1993, Kal-Zor - fueled by a combination of curiousity and an adolescent's sense of invulnerability - left Ultima Thule without permission to join the fight, adopting the costume and identity her mother used in World War II. When she arrived in Freedom City, Centurion greeted her warmly and accepted her help, sending her to help evacuate the civilians and fight off Omega's drones while he faced the Lord of Entropy himself. Since then, Kal-Zor has remained in the outside world, struggling to uphold the legacy she suddenly found herself bearing.


	2. Heist of the Century 1-1

**Phenomenal Cosmic Power**  
 _Heist of the Century 1.1_

I was bored.

Normally, I'd be working on a 'fic, but I'd been on a roll and needed a break. Still, all the Worm stuff I'd been reading and writing made me nostalgic for Mutants & Masterminds, so I started going through my old M&M gaming notes. I paused at one particular character sheet.

Centuria. A half-Ultiman girl, she was mainly a flying brick, but with the added bonuses of telepathy and cosmic energy control. Her backstory could be pretty much described as basically what would happen if Kara Zor-El had shown up to the Doomsday fight and taken up Superman's mantle, with a bit of a Wonder Woman twist.

She had been my character in The Great Collapse. Technically a Freedom City game, it had involved journeying across the multiverse trying to keep the whole thing from being destroyed, Crisis style.

Man, that had been a fun campaign before it died. I'll have to bug the GM to restart that one.

I looked over the build. It was still a pretty solid build for a flying brick/blaster. The telepathy gave good battlefield communication too, though I'd skimped on the mind reading aspect. It was part of the Ultiman package, and I hadn't really been interested in playing a telepath-focused character.

I shrugged and shut down my computer.

Then everything _shifted_ , and I just _knew_ I was going to hate this.

I was right.

As I took stock of the situation, I realized three things. One, I was a lot shorter than I was used to. Two, I was female; this was getting to be a disturbing trend, but I guess I couldn't really blame anyone but myself, especially given how much I enjoyed cross-playing in RPGs. Three, wherever I was was swarming with bugs.

"Fifteen minutes," I heard. "We won't be here any longer than that. Stay put, stay quiet, we'll be gone before fifteen minutes are up. You'll be free to give your statement to the police and then go about your day as usual. This isn't a TV show, this isn't a movie. If you're thinking about being a hero, don't. You'll only get yourself or someone else hurt."

I pinched the bridge of my nose. Great. This was just great.


	3. Heist of the Century 1-2

**Phenomenal Cosmic Power**  
 _Heist of the Century 1.2_

As Taylor finished her speech, memories drifted into my mind. Of the crazed Superior that Kantor had enslaved on that alternate Earth throwing said alternate Earth into the sun. An explosion. Finding myself here, on Earth-Bet. Trying to find a way home. Setting up an identity here in Brockton Bay once it became clear there wasn't one.

And now this.

On the one hand, the Undersiders didn't like hurting people, I knew Taylor was still doing the undercover thing as of yet, and literally nothing short of an anti-tank missile could hurt me. And unlike Alexandria, _I_ didn't need to breathe. On the other hand... I could be wrong, and desperate people do desperate things.

 _Well, nothing ventured..._

"Tell me, why are you robbing this bank?" I asked rhetorically, locking my gaze on Skitter's mask. Wait. She didn't have a cape name yet, did she? Not important.

"Get down," she ordered, fixing her gaze on me.

"No," I said, shaking my head defiantly. I walked toward her, ignoring the fearful murmurs around me. I stared at her from less than a foot away and sent my thoughts out: _There are things you need to know, Taylor. Your boss is Coil. His real name is Thomas Calvert. His power is to live two timelines and choose the one he wants. He uses it to torture his minions - including your fellow Undersiders - to find out anything they're planning against him without anyone knowing the wiser. And this robbery, for which he's paying you... what was it? Double the take? It's a distraction so he can kidnap a little girl who just triggered in order to lock her up in his basement and pump her full of drugs. That girl's about the same age as Brian's sister Aisha, in case you were wondering, and he'll probably do the same to Lisa the moment he thinks she'll turn on him. Also, Alec is actually Jean-Paul Vasil, one of Heartbreaker's kids._

She jerked back in shock.

 _Finally, Sophia Hess is Shadow Stalker,_ I added. _Winslow's covering for her, and the PRT doesn't know. She's on probation, and there's evidence on her phone that will incriminate her,_ if _you can get them to look._

God, I hoped she believed me.

"Tattletale!"


	4. Heist of the Century 1-3

**Phenomenal Cosmic Power**  
 _Heist of the Century 1.3_

Tattletale stepped out of the back... and froze as soon as she set eyes on me. Fair enough. I kind of expected that.

"Why is it that my power can't decide if you're a thirty-year-old man or a fifty-year-old woman?"

I gave her my smuggest smile.

 _You tell me._ I heard her breath catch. _Yes, I'm psychic. I need to know where I can find Dinah Alcott, right now, or getting out from under Coil's thumb is going to be a_ lot _harder for you. By the way, his real name's Thomas Calvert, his power lets him live two timelines and choose which one he wants to keep, and he uses it to torture you on your plans against him on a regular basis._

"Fuuuck," she hissed. She held up a finger. "Gimme a minute."

I couldn't help but wonder what the other hostages - particularly one Amy Dallon - were making of this strange exchange.

I should probably do something to get her out of here, come to think of it. I did _not_ want Tattletale accelerating the timer on _that_ WMD.

Tattletale was rubbing her temples. Thinker headache, I guessed. "We're going to have a long talk later," she promised darkly.

"Looking forward to it," I deadpanned.

She grabbed one of the bank's notepads and scribbled onto it. "Here," she said, shoving the notepad into my hands. I looked at it; it was an address, good. "Now, get out of here. You've got a kidnapping to stop."

"Not without the other hostages." _Especially since one of them is Amy Dallon,_ I added telepathically. _Unless you_ want _Glory Girl bringing the whole building down around your ears._

"Women and children only," she grated out.

I considered the offer... but decided to go for broke. "You and I both know you can't afford the heat that would come down on you if you actually followed through on your threats," I pointed out. _I'm pretty sure you know how things would go if push came to shove between us, Lisa. Time's ticking away on saving Dinah, and you know I can't just leave dozens of people at risk, even if you are bluffing, to save just one person. Someone could get hurt in the crossfire when the Wards arrive._

She twitched. "You're bluffing."

 _Is that what your power's telling you?_ I asked. _How old did it say I was again?_

I'd noticed a trend among Thinkers; they tended to not think very much, relying too much on their powers instead. Tattletale was no exception. Only, her power - as far as she could tell - was now lying to her.

Her eyes narrowed, and her glare promised vengeance. That... may have been a mistake. She looked out, holding her pistol up. "May I have your attention please? As a sign of good faith, we're going to let the women and children go free. Men to my right, women and children to my left, and no funny business!" She pointed her pistol at me. "Including you, Ms. Troublemaker," she growled.

I considered pressing the matter, but at this point, it was clear she wasn't going to budge.

 _Very well,_ I acquiesced as I backed away and rejoined the crowd of freed hostages. Might as well get one last shot in. _And don't worry, Ms. Livsey. I don't plan on outing you, any of you. Well, except to Taylor here._

Tattletale's eyes darted to her new teammate.

"What the _fuck_ was that?" a voice hissed in my ear.

I blinked and gave a surreptitious glance. Short, brown, frizzy hair, check. Freckles, check. Panacea. Of course. "I'll explain outside," I murmured.


	5. Heist of the Century 1-4

**Phenomenal Cosmic Power**  
 _Heist of the Century 1.4_

As I stepped outside, I scanned the area, looking for a place to change. Per my- _Callie's_ usual habits, I was wearing my costume underneath my street clothes - hooray for baggy clothing - which made this a lot easier. I quickly spied an alley and made my way there.

With Amy Dallon trailing behind me. Looked like she really wanted those answers.

"Hold on!" Amy snapped, putting a hand on my shoulder. I turned, grabbed her shoulders (protected by my force field, thank you very much), and positioned her at the alley entrance.

"Cover me," I said as I ducked behind the dumpster and began stripping. "And turn around, unless you want to watch," I added.

"Eep!" She turned. Half-turning her head while still keeping her eyes averted, she asked, "What the hell happened?"

"I'm a cape," I said as I turned away as I took the blonde wig off, shaking free my short, black hair.

"Duh."

"Yeah, yeah," I said, rolling my eyes. "I have a Thinker power," I elaborated as I pulled my hoodie over my head; it was a shapeless thing that hid my figure well, and _boy_ , was that a weird thing to think about. "Turns out, Tattletale's working under duress, and the bug girl's actually a new indie hero on an unauthorized undercover scheme. She's actually the one who took down Lung, and since Armsmaster got burned when he took credit for it, he's leaving her out in the cold. Their boss-"

My T-shirt was around my head, when I felt a gust of wind blow on me from in front, deeper into the alley.

"Who the hell are you?"

I felt fear washed over me, but drawing on a mental fortitude I was pretty sure came from Callie, I shrugged it off. I finished removing the T-shirt, and yep, that was Glory Girl.

"Hello, Glory Girl," I said. "My cape name's Centuria. I sort of just outed myself to a villain to free most of the hostages, including your sister, and I have a kidnapping to stop. Could I have a little privacy, please?"

She blinked, and her aura faltered. "Uh, of course," she said, her face red as she walked past me to stand next to Amy. I could hear them whispering urgently behind me.

"Anyway," I said as I started working on my jeans, "as I was saying, their boss is Coil, and between me and Tattletale, we figured out his plan. The robbery's a distraction to kidnap the mayor's niece. Coil's got a weird Thinker power that'll let him cancel the kidnapping attempt if it'll fail if he uses it right, but I have to make sure it _will_ fail, or it'll go through."

With practiced ease, I folded everything up and stuffed them into an opaque bag I kept handy just for this.

"There," I said, satisfied as I stepped out past them.

Amy stared. "Are you a Changer?"

I looked down. Where before I was a frumpy nerd with long blonde hair wearing horn-rimmed glasses and shapeless clothes, I was now a fit-looking athlete with short black hair wearing a skintight blue and white cape costume. I guess I could understand the confusion.

"No," I said, shaking my head. "Just _really_ thorough at the whole 'separate identity' thing, for all the good that did." I held the bag with my street clothes out to Amy. "Hang onto this for me, will you? I have a kidnapping to stop."

"O-of course."

"Thanks!"

"Hey, I'm coming with you!"


	6. Heist of the Century 1-5

**Phenomenal Cosmic Power**  
 _Heist of the Century 1.5_

I showed Glory Girl the address Tattletale had given me, and between us - well, between her and the memories I had from Callie - it didn't take long to find our destination. I could have gone faster, carried her there. Putting all my discretionary cosmic energy into flight was enough to push me over a third of light speed, but I didn't know the city nearly as well as Glory Girl did.

It was easy to spot the commotion, even from the air, and the two vans racing away. _I'll take the one on the left,_ I told Glory Girl.

She looked at me, clearly startled, then shook it off and nodded and dove for the van on the right.

 _Sorry,_ I apologized as I dove for my target. _Didn't even think how this would seem._ It had just seemed so _natural_ to use telepathy for battlefield comms. _Don't worry, though. I'm only reading whatever you project to me. Can't even read surface thoughts._

Well, not without a lot more effort, anyway. And even then, it was pretty hit or miss.

I debated my approach and decided to start off... less aggressively, facing the van and landing far enough ahead of it for the driver to stop. I poured some cosmic energy into strength and braced, ready to react.

The van slewed to the side, skidding to a halt, and the side door slid open with a practiced ease. One of the occupants raised an assault rifle to his shoulder and fired some sort of purple laser beam from an underbarrel mount.

Let me just take a moment and say, Countering Punch is bullshit.

I literally met the tinkertech laser beam with a punch that deflected it (hopefully) harmlessly into the sky, then started walking toward them, Terminator style. Spreading my arms, I generated a hard light construct made from cosmic energy to surround us, cutting us off from any potential hostages or collateral damage.

"Okay, boys," I said, "unless you've got something in there that hits harder than a rocket launcher, you probably want to surrender now."

One of them slid open the opposite door behind them. What were they-?

My eyes widened slightly just before the explosion.

As I waved the smoke away, I took a few more steps closer.

"I said something that hits _harder_ than a rocket launcher," I pointed out. "That _was_ a rocket launcher. Now that we've established that, no, that doesn't work, will you be surrendering now?" I cracked my knuckles. This body apparently wasn't as used to that as my original one was. Owie. "Or will I get to demonstrate just how I feel about people who kidnap children?"


	7. Heist of the Century 1-6

**Phenomenal Cosmic Power**  
 _Heist of the Century 1.6_

They surrendered, proving they were neither suicidal nor _completely_ stupid. Restraining them was a matter of disarming them, herding them back into the van, and crunching the locking mechanisms shut. And reminding them that I knew what they looked like, and if they ran, I'd take that as a sign that they had decided not to surrender after all, thus leading to choice B: letting me demonstrate just how I feel about people who kidnap children.

Even if the windows _weren't_ armored, inconvenience plus threat of horrible pain made for a very convincing combination, I thought.

 _Glory Girl?_

 _I'm a_ little _busy right now!_

That certainly sounded like my cue, so I put more cosmic energy into flight, and within seconds, I came across the site of a stand off. The van was lying on its side - why did that not surprise me? - and Glory Girl was facing off with two mercs. One of them was pointing an assault rifle with what looked like the same kind of tinker tech underbarrel laser the other merc had fired on me.

The other was holding a pistol to Dinah Alcott's head.

I landed gently next to Glory Girl.

Crossing my arms, I cocked an eyebrow at the mercs. "Okay. First, we're both rocketproof, so that rifle's pretty useless. Second, a hostage? Seriously? You kill her, you lose the only thing keeping us from squashing you like a bug... and give us plenty of motivation to make it _hurt_."

I weaved some cosmic energy into a force field dome covering the five of us.

"Aaand... you have nowhere to run. Now, I don't know about _you_ , but I don't need food. Or water. Or sleep." I nodded to Dinah. "I can keep this up until _she_ dies of old age."

What happened next was a blur. Dinah stomped her foot on the merc's. It didn't hurt him, not through his combat boots, but it did distract him enough for her to break free of his grip. Glory Girl flew forward, and I fired a cosmic blast at the rifle-toting merc.

A single gunshot rang out, and with a spray of blood, Dinah Alcott fell to the ground.


	8. Heist of the Century 1-7

**Phenomenal Cosmic Power**  
 _Heist of the Century 1.7_

As cosmic energy (yes, I know, cosmic energy control is bullshit) closed the last of her wounds, Dinah gasped and sat up.

After double checking to ensure she was, in fact, fully healed, I helped her to her feet. "You okay?"

She nodded. "Yeah," she said. "Thank you."

"Good." Straightening up, I put my hands on my hips and gave her a stern glare. "Now, Dinah Alcott, what on Earth were you _thinking?_ "

"Ninety-five percent chance you'd heal me," she said simply.

Cheeky girl.

"Ninety-five is _not_ one hundred, young lady," I scolded her, waving a finger at her. "What if I'd rolled a one?"

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, _Mom_."

Great. Just great. The second or third most powerful precog on Earth-Bet (depending on where Contessa was at any given moment) was a snarky preteen.

Why was I even surprised?

I looked over at Glory Girl. New Wave's golden girl lowered her phone and walked over. "PRT's sending a pick up wagon." She looked over at Dinah. "She gonna be okay?"

"She's twelve years old and was nearly kidnapped," I reminded her. "On top of that, she's a precog, so she probably has at least some idea of what was in store for her. All told, I think she's doing pretty well."

"That's good to hear," she said. "Umm..." Her eyes darted to the merc who had shot Dinah. "Could you...?"

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, I'll make sure he doesn't die." As I moved over to heal the merc, I asked, "Once I'm done with this, should I go grab the other team and bring them here?"

"Yeah, that'll work."

It didn't take long to heal the merc or fetch the van; it was easier just to pick up the whole thing. Setting it aside, I turned to Glory Girl again. "So, uh, any word on the bank?"

"Undersiders got away," she said with a small scowl, "but whatever you did meant they didn't get away with much, and no one got hurt, so there's that." She gave me a curious look. "Sooo, just how many powers do you _have_ , anyway?"

"Umm, I'm pretty much immune to poison and disease," I began ticking off my fingers. "Don't need food, water, air, or sleep. I don't age either." That was all under Immunity; pretty cheap, all things considered. Pity I couldn't justify immunity to critical hits, though; that would have taken a lot of weight off my mind, given I'm in fucking _Worm_. "A lot of my powers depend on drawing on a fixed pool of energy. With it, I can reach a little over a third of light speed in flight, or I can boost my lifting strength to a million and a half tons or so." Well, a bit over 1.6 million, actually.

Power Reserve is totally awesome.

"Telekinesis, only about three thousand tons there." Well, more like 3,200, but what's a couple hundred tons on that scale? It was much lower due to not having base ranks to stack onto like I had with Super-Strength. "I'm tough enough to shrug off a rocket." With my force field down, it might leave me a bit banged up, depending on my luck; with it up, nothing short of a 120mm tank gun would even mess up my hair, and I had pretty good odds on shrugging off a cruise missile to the face. Assuming I remembered my damage benchmarks correctly. "Force field constructs, energy blasts, a Thinker power that gives me good hunches on occasion. Healing, along with some passive regeneration that I can boost. And I'm not entirely sure if I can actually die or not." Well, technically, I could - and had - but I would just come back in a week. "Oh, and the telepathic communication, which also lets me speak and understand any language."

That, of course, wasn't counting power stunts, which - given my main power array was cosmic energy - was basically just barely short of outright magic in terms of sheer versatility.

She stared at me.

"Bullshit."

Well, I couldn't argue with that.


	9. Heist of the Century 1-8

**Phenomenal Cosmic Power**  
 _Heist of the Century 1.8_

You know how Thinkers tend to have mental flaws? How Tattletale always has to be the smartest person in the room? How Accord has to have everything in its place? I've got both those neuroses, just not quite as severe, and I come by them naturally. Insofar as a person mentally fused with a fictional character of the opposite gender he once made up and then subsequently dropped into an entirely different fictional setting could be said to come by _anything_ "naturally." Callie was a lot less obsessive, a lot more impulsive, which... helped.

I hate thinking on my feet. It's not that I _can't_ ; I just hate it. But I didn't see much choice. Information was power, but there was only a limited window in which to use it before it became useless. Thinkers like Tattletale made that window very small indeed.

In this case, if I wanted to take advantage of it at all, I had to _use_ it all, or as much as I could, as soon as possible. It was a shotgun-style approach: probably effective, but messy and wasteful, with a fair probability of collateral damage. And I _hated_ wasting a potential advantage. Inner loot-hoarder rearing its head, I suppose.

Which was why I was now in an elevator in PRT headquarters. Panacea and Glory Girl were with me, and I had one Dinah Alcott attached to my leg like a barnacle. The PRT officer escorting us was doing his best impression of a statue.

"Thank you."

I blinked and looked over at Amy. "What?"

"Thank you," she repeated. "I- you've obviously put a lot of effort into concealing your identity, and you basically outed yourself to a villain to help before your first outing. That's..." she trailed off.

"Things are a lot less clear cut than it seems," I said with a shrug. "I don't have any friends or family, I'm pretty much bulletproof in or out of costume, and even if someone _did_ hurt me, I regenerate. Honestly, it's not the _villains_ I'm worried about finding out my identity." I ruffled Dinah's hair, causing her to duck away in annoyance. "Besides, I had to save this little munchkin too."

I briefly considered just _what_ I was going to tell Director Piggot. About "the bug girl" going undercover - and that Armsmaster knew it after claiming credit for Lung - was at the top of the list. Should I tell her about Coil? Tattletale operating under duress? What Shadow Stalker's been doing in her spare time? Or do I let Taylor and Lisa handle those angles?

"Eighty-six percent chance things go better if you trust them to do their part."

"Trust who to do their part?" Glory Girl asked.

That was a good question. I looked down at Dinah, who clarified, "Whoever it is you were thinking of just now."

...

Friggin' precogs.

Still, I frowned. "You shouldn't be using your power for this."

"I'm okay," she insisted.

I sighed.


	10. Heist of the Century 1-9

**Phenomenal Cosmic Power**  
 _Heist of the Century 1.9_

I stood patiently in front of Director Piggot's desk after I finished my report. Callie had worked with the Freedom League before going on her interdimensional adventure, so she'd picked up some practice at giving a concise report. I could practically sense Armsmaster tensing up behind me to my right as I rattled off about Bug Girl's role in taking down Lung and her undercover scheme.

Director Piggot glared at Armsmaster. "That would certainly explain a few things, wouldn't it, Armsmaster. Such as the types of venom found in Lung's system."

It clearly wasn't a question. I'm so glad grab bag capes are a thing here... and that Thinker powers were ill-defined enough for her to buy it. Well, with corroborating evidence, anyway.

"I was... concerned that a new cape with no support would be vulnerable to retaliation from the ABB," Armsmaster bit out stiffly. "It was for her own safety."

"That might hold water _had you bothered mentioning it in your report_ ," she said acidly. Her eyes flicked in my direction briefly. "We will _discuss_ this later. For now, let's focus on this... undercover operation?"

"I told her it was a stupid idea!" he snapped. "I did _not_ authorize anything of the sort."

"I see," Piggot said, nodding. She sighed, then looked back at me. "I hate to rely on an unaffiliated parahuman's alleged Thinker powers, but Armsmaster has clearly confirmed your claims, and we do need more heroes. If she comes in, I'll see that the courts take this into consideration, and if you can find a way to get in contact with her before then, I might even be able to arrange something more official and save them the trouble."

"If I do, I'll let her know, Director."

"Now, Centuria, that leaves two other concerns. Miss Alcott and yourself," she said. "First, tell me, have _you_ considered the Wards program?"

I scowled and resisted the urge to snap at her. Maybe giving Callie the appearance of a sixteen-year-old and a minor complex about it hadn't been such a good idea. "I'm older than I look," I said finally, "and at this point, I think I can accomplish more flying solo."

"I urge you to reconsider," she said. "The Wards program-"

"Is something I'm too old to qualify for, Director, despite my appearance."

Her jaw clicked shut. "The Protectorate can offer support and backup, Centuria, along with a six figure salary. Independent capes don't last very long."

"Considering the city likely wouldn't survive anything that can kill me, I think I'll be fine." Especially seeing as how I'd outlived the last _planet_ I was on. Well, for a given value of "outlived." Did it still count even though I actually died and self-resurrected?

"That's a bold claim," she said but declined to pursue it further. "Next, we have Miss Alcott. Your parents are on their way, and-"

"Zero point zero three six percent chance I'll be safe if I go home."

Silence reigned. Not that I hadn't been expecting those odds, what with Coil still out there, but the girl sure had a habit of picking the dramatic moment.

Instead, I turned and knelt down to look her in the eyes.

"Odds you'll be safe if you stay with the Protectorate or the PRT?"

"Thirty-one percent." Ouch, but not unexpected, given Coil's moles.

"New Wave?"

"Fifty-four percent."

I closed my eyes. I had a sinking feeling where this was going to go.

"And me?"

"Ninety-three percent," she said, then paused. "Ninety-seven percent if you coordinate with New Wave."

 _Damn it._


	11. Interlude 1A - Emily

**Phenomenal Cosmic Power**  
 _Interlude 1A - Emily_

As Centuria left with Dinah Alcott in tow, Emily Piggot turned and fixed Armsmaster with a steady glare. The leader of the Protectorate ENE didn't fidget - he had far too much self-control for that - but it was obvious her disapproval was received and understood.

"You know, Armsmaster," she said, her voice deceptively calm, "for the longest time, I was under the impression that you were professional enough to be trusted to do your job _properly_." He stiffened almost imperceptibly. He was offended. _Good,_ she thought with dark satisfaction. "As it stands," she continued, "I now find myself with no choice but to order a review of all Protectorate reports submitted since Challenger retired. Do you anticipate any further... discrepancies?"

"No, Director." His answer was immediate, clipped and concise as ever.

"Excellent," she said, relaxing slightly. So it was likely a one-off incident; she'd still conduct the review, of course, just in case, but Armsmaster wasn't foolish enough to not take the lifeline she'd just offered if this had been a habit of his. "In the interests of avoiding any... awkward rumors, I'll be ordering a general review of all East-North-East operations, including both the Protectorate and Wards programs, as well as a security review of the PRT and our preparedness plans. Can I count on your assistance?"

If the little precog was right... she bristled at the thought. The very idea that the PRT - _her_ PRT - could have less than a one in three chance of protecting a little girl in their custody was _not_ something she could abide. Obviously, they'd gotten lax somewhere.

He nodded, a single, quick jerk of his head. "Of course, Director."

* * *

Two days later, her phone rang. "Piggot," she barked into the receiver.

"Director Piggot, I hope this isn't a bad time."

She froze briefly at the voice on the other end but quickly recovered. "Not at all, Chief Director," she answered smoothly. "How can I help you?"

"A report from your office just crossed my desk," Chief Director Rebecca Costa-Brown said. "About a new independent hero, an Alexandria package with Thinker and Shaker powers?"

"Centuria, yes," Emily confirmed. "She has also has a healing ability, but we currently have no indication on whether or not it warrants a separate Striker rating, and it looks like we'll need to add a Blaster rating to her file as well."

"So she's been busy." It wasn't a question.

"Yes. There was an incident with the ABB yesterday. I'll have a preliminary report forwarded to you by the end of the day."

"I appreciate that, Director," she said. "Has she considered the Wards program?"

"She claims to be of age and declined to join the Protectorate," Emily answered with genuine regret; she did _not_ like the idea of a parahuman that powerful flying around her city unchecked. "As she has done nothing illegal and managed to involve herself in a rather... _delicate_ situation - the details are attached to my report - I decided not to press the issue."

"I must commend your judgment. The last thing we need is to alienate a cape of that caliber. So long as she remains heroically inclined and willing to work with us, I see no reason to push for anything more. If she could be convinced of the benefits of signing on, that would, of course, be even better."

Translation: Butter her up and try to recruit her.

Emily's expression soured a little at that. The fact that Centuria seemed emotionally invested in the Undersiders' new recruit for some reason meant she'd have to play softball with her too. It was a good thing she'd meant it when she'd told Centuria she'd be willing to give her a chance. It was even better that the girl had made contact. Even though she hadn't offered much information yet, what she _had_ provided had pointed Emily in a direction she would have otherwise overlooked.

Still, that didn't mean she had to like it.

"Understood, Chief Director. I'll keep you apprised, of course, but given her decision not to wear a mask and her current relations with New Wave, if they decide to expand..." she trailed off meaningfully.

"I see. Well, do what you can. Good evening, Director."

"Good evening, Chief Director."


	12. The Great Game 2-1

**Phenomenal Cosmic Power**  
 _The Great Game 2.1_

I had an apartment downtown. Well, Callie did, which made it mine. On lease, anyway. The building itself was eight stories tall - I lived on the fourth floor - with stone facing, and the apartment itself was decent. There were more spacious ones in the building, but mine was a one-bedroom affair. It was certainly a step up from a studio apartment, for which I was grateful. Not sure I could have handled taking in Dinah with an itty bitty living space like that. The French windows led to a balcony I could use if I needed to fly out in an emergency. I wasn't planning on doing that if I could avoid it, though, obviously. Aside from myself, only five people knew my identity for sure, and I'd like to keep it that way if I could. Slim chance, I knew, but it wasn't zero.

The fact that I even had an apartment was due to Callie being industrious before I woke up as her in the bank. Ultima Thule had some pretty advanced technology - I'm talking Kryptonian level here - and while Callie wasn't particularly scholarly, her technical knowhow was sufficient to keep the Centuritron robots running back home. I lacked the Craft skill to pull any real Tinker bullshit, which was a pity, but that technical knowhow had scored her - me - an at-home programming gig that I certainly wouldn't otherwise have been qualified for. Depositing my paycheck was why I'd even been in the bank to begin with.

Imagine that. She - we, I, whatever - came from a more classic comic book universe and just _happened_ to land a job that let me set my own hours and didn't require interacting face to face. How convenient.

"Mi casa es su casa, Dinah," I said as I opened the apartment door, and Dinah rushed in, flopping on the sofabed. I entered a bit more sedately, carrying a luggage with her things in it. Her parents hadn't been happy, but they'd understood. In fact, I'd detected a trace of guilt from them, actually, on the whole "attempted kidnapping" thing. Dinah had said something about them not believing her about her powers; well, they certainly believed now.

The PRT had supplied me with two official PRT phones in case of emergency - one for me and one for Dinah - and Centuria was now officially an affiliate hero. Whatever the hell that meant.

* * *

The next afternoon, after I'd finished my programming work for the day, I considered the situation. I couldn't stay home forever, even if that would be safer. I looked over at my houseguest.

"You gonna be okay if I go out?" I asked.

She nodded. "Three point two percent chance he tries anything if you leave for less than one hour, forty-three minutes," she said. She looked at me. "The odds go up quickly if you're gone longer, though. Zero point two two percent chance of him trying and succeeding if you check in every half hour."

I blinked. "I'll... keep that in mind." Check in every half hour? I could do that easily. It's not like this world had cosmic psi-blockers, after all.

Did it? I'd have to check into that. Tinkers were famously bullshit, after all.

The doorbell rang. I frowned and turned, taking a moment to peer through the peephole.

I opened the door and quickly ushered them inside.

"Vicky, Amy, what are you two _doing_ here?" At least they weren't in costume.

"Helping you out," Vicky answered. "She said the odds were better if you coordinate with us, right?"

I looked between them. That _was_ why I'd given them my address. I'd just been expecting something a bit more... organized. A schedule or something arranged with one of the senior members of New Wave, perhaps. Still... "This works out, actually. I've got something I need to take care of today."

I had a bug girl to talk to.


	13. The Great Game 2-2

**Phenomenal Cosmic Power**  
 _The Great Game 2.2_

I took the bus to Winslow after picking up a couple of cheap prepaid phones. In civvies, of course. This time, I decided to forgo the hoodie for something a bit more Ace. Leather jacket and shoulder-length black wig included because... why not? While I didn't have any particular talent for disguise, I could take 20 on it, which made the new appearance pretty hard to see through with a cursory glance. It wouldn't fool anyone who was really looking or actually knew me, but it would be enough to conceal me from any chance encounters. Kind of like Clark's glasses in Secret Identity.

The fact that I naturally looked sixteen helped complete the delinquent image as I loitered outside, across the street from the school. The problem was that I had no idea if Taylor was even going to be here. The bitch trio had driven her out of school more than once, after all, and they had no reason to let up.

As students began rushing out of the school, I caught more than a few curious looks - a rank of Attractive will do that, I guess - but a combination of death glares and calculated disinterest kept anyone from approaching me. I pushed myself off the wall when I spotted her.

 _Taylor._

She stumbled for a moment.

 _Across the street._

She looked around, and I waved at her. Checking traffic, she crossed the street and approached me warily.

"Hey, Tay," I said as she approached me hesitantly. "I don't think you caught my name last time. I'm Callie."

She was clearly searching for something to say and finally settled on, "I'm sorry."

I shrugged. "Don't worry about it. Listen, I had a chat with the boss about that first night of yours." _I told Director Piggot about your whole undercover thing. She's willing to give you a chance, especially since she's only recently learned you were the one who actually took down Lung._

She jerked back. "She knows about that?"

I nodded. "Yeah, she's not happy about how that turned out, and he's seriously in the doghouse right now, but they'll deal." _Think it through, Taylor. Regardless of the public story, he shouldn't have hid it from the director; doing so had left him as the only person in the world who could confirm you were going undercover. Now, though, you're on record as a hero with a big win, while the asshole who took credit for your collar and then left you hanging in the wind got discredited in the director's eyes. You_ need _her in your corner if the undercover thing's going to work._

"That's good to hear," she said, obviously relieved. I saw Sophia and Emma approaching. Damn it. I did _not_ need an interruption right now.

"Yeah, well, the rest of this conversation is one we should have in private," I said, giving Sophia and Emma a glare over her shoulder.

 _Don't interrupt, little shadow, or I will_ end _you._

Sophia stumbled, her face going pale - impressive, given her complexion - and she reached out to catch Emma's shoulder, pulling her back.

Not bad for someone without ranks in Intimidate.

* * *

We took the bus to Taylor's house. Her father wouldn't be home for a while.

"You're in a bind, Taylor," I said bluntly as we sat across from each other at the kitchen table, "a pretty bad one. I hope you realize that."

"What- what do you mean?" She frowned.

"Piggot's willing to give you a chance, thanks to the Lung thing, but you still robbed a bank, committed multiple counts of assault with a parahuman power and resisting arrest, and nearly helped your boss kidnap a twelve-year-old girl. I don't know _what_ bullshit the Undersiders have been feeding you, but you've made a very public and _very_ memorable debut as an absolutely ruthless and terrifying villain. If you're ever going to be accepted as a hero, you'll need to either wipe out the Slaughterhouse Nine, kill an Endbringer, or get the PRT's PR machine on your side to sell the undercover story when it breaks."

Somewhere along the line, I'd gotten up and started pacing.

"That's where I come in," I said, putting one of the burner phones on the table. "I'm on speed-dial one and two, but two's the PRT phone they gave me, so it'll be tapped. Speed-dial three's the PRT cape line, four's the BBPD, and five's a special number the PRT told me to give you if you were really on board with the undercover thing."

Hesitantly, she picked up the phone.

"Keep in mind," I added, "the reason you aren't in an interrogation room right now is because I stuck my neck out for you, I'm the only one who actually knows your identity, I'm powerful enough to keep the PRT from forcing the issue, _and_ this city's in bad enough shape that Piggot's desperate enough to go along with this if it means getting more capes on the hero side."

She looked up. "But... the unwritten rules..."

"Is _that_ what they're telling you?" I snorted. "You really think the PRT is going to put _un_ written rules over the _written_ ones they're legally obligated to enforce? Like the ones you broke yesterday? Rules only go as far as people are willing to enforce them, and I can guaran-damn-tee you that if they found out who, say, Purity was, they wouldn't hesitate to take her baby from her." That was what had happened in canon, after all.

That seemed to stop her.

"Purity has a baby?" she asked. Crap. She looked at me. "You know who she is." It wasn't a question.

I bit my lip and sat down across from her. "Honest truth?" I said. "She's where you could _easily_ find yourself in a few years, Taylor." Not that that had actually happened in canon, but canon had gone out the window already. "She's actually trying to turn over a new leaf, be a hero, but she made mistakes when she was younger, got too close to the Empire. She has too many friends there, and she can't bring herself to fight them. Because of what she's done, no one believes she wants to be a hero, and in the end, unless I can figure out how to change things... she'll end up going back to them because she has nowhere else to go." I looked her in the eyes. "That's what being known as a villain _does_ , Taylor. It locks you in, keeps you on that path with no way out, except _maybe_ by turning yourself in and accepting a whole mess of restrictions on your freedom, some of which could actively endanger your life, in the name of PR. No options, no choices, no control over your own fate."

She frowned pensively at that.

"What about Sophia?" she asked quietly. "Is what you told me about her true?"

"Sadly, yes." I sighed. "But if I told the PRT, it would probably out you to them, and that's not my decision to make. Had you joined the Wards and made an issue of it, they probably would have benched her until she went stir crazy and did something rash that would get her punted to juvie. I mean, she's abrasive, insubordinate, her power's less useful than yours, and the rest of the Wards probably would have gotten along better with you. But now?" I shook my head. "Can you honestly sit there and tell me that what she did to you is any worse than what you did to them? Plus, it's a whole lot easier to sweep under the rug, and if they're desperate enough to spin up their PR machine for a bank robber..."

" _Fuck!_ " she swore. "So what am I supposed to do?"

"Whatever you think is right," I said with a shrug. "I just want you to be sure you realize the hole you've dug for yourself. For us both."

"You dug yourself into this hole with me," she pointed out, "and you still haven't told me why."

"Because you have been shat upon from a great height," I declared solemnly, "and despite that, you're still trying to do the right thing." I grinned. "And besides, someday, I'm going to need a sidekick."

She blinked, then scowled. "Hey!"


	14. The Great Game 2-3

**Phenomenal Cosmic Power**  
 _The Great Game 2.3_

"So why don't you join New Wave?" Vicky asked between bites. I'd stopped for Chinese takeout on the way home from Taylor's house, and while Amy and Dinah were done eating, Vicky and I were having seconds. She was sprawled on the sofabed next to Amy, while Dinah was asleep, wedged into the recliner next to me. "I mean, you've already outed yourself to some villains, and your costume doesn't even have a mask, right?"

I shrugged, careful not to disturb Dinah. "Like I said, I don't really have any family or friends in my personal life that I'm worried about, and I'm only slightly less bulletproof in my pajamas than I am in costume."

"Having backup never hurts," she argued.

I snorted. "Are you kidding? Look, Vicky, I appreciate the offer - I really do - but I'm a PR disaster waiting to happen."

She blinked. "How so?"

"Look at my powers, Vicky," I said. "I'm a telekinetic, telepathic Alexandria package, and I have a knack for technology, even though it's not really enough to qualify me as a Tinker. Who else does that describe?"

She paused at that, a thoughtful look on her face as she chewed through some chicken. She swallowed as it clicked. "You think people will compare you to the _Simurgh?_ That's absurd," she scoffed. "You're a _hero_."

"People are irrational and panicky." I shrugged. "I mean, look at what's happening to Canary. Paige Mcabee told her stalker ex to go fuck himself and accidentally Mastered him. What she did was roughly equivalent to if you got pissed at someone stalking you, accidentally let your aura loose, and the guy jumped off a bridge to get away from you and broke his legs."

Vicky frowned.

"And now," I continued, "because she's a singer with a Master power and feathers - all things that remind people of the Simurgh - they're railroading her, and there isn't a single person standing up for her." I began to tick off each point; I - Callie - had been following the rather sensationalist story, but without the outside context knowledge I'd gotten at the bank, I hadn't known the details of what had actually happened. "She's being represented by a public defender who's either incompetent or deliberately bungling his job when she can _easily_ afford a top notch private attorney. The case is being held before a judge who's clearly biased against parahumans, yet no one's called for him to recuse himself. They're forcing her to wear Brute shackles when she has shown no sign of any Brute powers. Is she even being allowed to provide written testimony in her own defense? Even the big civil rights organizations are keeping quiet, and they're usually pretty rabid about preventing precedents, regardless of who's been targeted." I carefully leaned back. "One day, I'm sure, I'll make a mistake. By then, it's a matter of whether I've earned enough goodwill to head off that kind of reaction or not."

"And if not?" Amy asked quietly, a deeply troubled look on her face. "What will you do then?" she clarified.

I shrugged. "Leave, probably, assuming they don't have the Triumvirate ambush me before I get some warning, which I doubt they would. The main two things keeping me on Earth are the facts that I still care about humanity and that space is really big and really lonely."

 _Really_ lonely. Somehow, I doubted the Lor Republic existed in this reality.

"Jeez," Vicky muttered, "talk about a downer. So! Change of topic, you gonna make a move on that neighbor of yours?"

That brought my melancholic thoughts to a halt. "Who?"

"The guy across the hall," she said, a sly grin on her face. "Big, beefy fella, _very_ easy on the eyes, in my professional opinion."

I frowned as I rummaged through my memories. "Last I checked, that flat was vacant."

"He did say he was just starting to move in," Vicky admitted. "He seemed kind of nervous... buuut I get that a lot, and he _was_ in a bit of a rush. Said his name was Brian."

Brian.

...

No. No fucking way. It _couldn't_ be. The odds against that were-

My newly acquired burner phone rang, interrupting my train of thought.

Only one person had that number.


	15. The Great Game 2-4

**Phenomenal Cosmic Power**  
 _The Great Game 2.4_

I should have known. This was going to screw with the half-assed thing I called a plan. No way was I going to let Taylor hang, even though I was pretty sure she could get through this; that would burn any bridges I had with her, and I did _not_ want to get on her bad side. I wasn't Alexandria; choking on bugs wouldn't kill me, but it was damn unpleasant - yes, I speak from experience; damn Collective - assuming she _didn't_ somehow figure out a way to kill me and make it stick. On the one hand, at least she knew when she was in over her head, and this gave me the opportunity to take Bakuda out of play early. On the other hand, she was breaking cover. Not that Lisa hadn't already seen right through it, but that wasn't the point, damn it. She'd at least play along if she thought she could get an opportunity to gank Coil out of it.

Oh, well.

I left Vicky and Amy to keep an eye on Dinah - and believe me, Vicky took some convincing - before I bolted for the roof access. I changed and flew out toward the trainyard, then followed the explosions.

I found the Undersiders cornered by the ABB - mostly conscripts, judging by their appearance - with Bakuda on an open-topped SUV with a roll cage. It didn't look good for them. How on Earth did they manage to get out from this situation in canon? Had I forgotten something? Or did my presence at the bank butterfly things away this quickly already?

I took a quick survey of the confrontation. The Undersiders, I dismissed as a threat. Grue and Regent might be able to mess with me, but they'd go for the escape, not the kill. The rest of the ABB were armed with... hmm. Guns, mainly, a few makeshift melee weapons. No threat. Well, not to _me_ , anyway.

That left Bakuda herself and the "wonderful" toys surrounding her.

I touched down in front of the jeep, arms folded, eyes fixed on the ABB Tinker.

"Hello, Bakuda," I said. "I've been looking for you." Only a small lie. She was on my list of things to take care of, but this had cropped up before I'd had a chance to prioritize said list, let alone get started on it.

"You're that new hero from yesterday," she said, her voice robotic. Some sort of voice modulator? Not important. "Pity you're so new. Killing a rookie won't be worth much rep."

She brought a grenade launcher up to her shoulder... and I fired a precisely measured cosmic blast at the road below the jeep, flipping the vehicle and throwing her clear.

I began marching forward, Terminator-style. The ABB opened fire on me, the conscripts hesitating until some of the actual gangbangers pushed them into action, but I ignored them, the bullets pinging harmlessly off my force field-reinforced skin and costume.

Bakuda had apparently managed to keep hold of her grenade launcher. When she fired it at me, however, I simply flew up and over. Given all the exotic effects she could pull off, I didn't dare risk trying to tank a hit if I could avoid it.

Then I heard it.

"Stop wasting ammo on her!" It was one of the gangbangers, not Bakuda. "Kill _them!_ "

I turned and flung out my left hand. I didn't have time to be creative; a force field wall sprang to life between the ABB and the Undersiders, stopping the hail of bullets.

"Idealistic, aren't you?" Bakuda taunted.

Another grenade arced toward the Undersiders overhead. The force field didn't cover that direction.

I reacted on instinct, flying and deflecting the grenade. Not my wisest decision. It detonated some distance away, and my right arm went numb. My trajectory took me toward the Undersiders, landing near Skitter - hmm, I forgot to talk to her about her cape name - and I looked at my arm.

Huh. So that's what that feels like. From about halfway between my shoulder and elbow on down, instead of flesh and blood, there was glass. I'd heard about this bomb.

That's when the pain hit, and I dropped to one knee.

"Fuck!" I hissed. Smash it off, and I could regrow it. I channeled my cosmic energy toward regeneration, then raised my left hand up, clenching it into a fist... and froze. My hand trembled.

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and screwed my will. My fist came down, and I heard more than felt the glass arm shattering. Seconds later, I was flexing a brand new hand as I stood up.

"How many powers do you have?!" Bakuda demanded. I took a quick glance around. The ABB had stopped firing at some point and were looking between me and Bakuda in fear.

"Fewer than you'd think," I answered as I hurled another cosmic energy blast at her. Which was true. _Technically_ , all my "powers" were either from my half-Ultiman heritage or a clever manifestation of cosmic energy control. Or out of context knowledge. That counted too, I suppose. But it was mostly cosmic energy bullshit.

Bakuda tried to dodge, but the energy blast curved around for a second attack run and dropped her like a light.

Homing was _such_ a useful power feat.

I looked around. The Undersiders were gone - they must have gotten while the getting was good; I didn't blame them - and the ABB were kind of milling around, clutching their weapons spastically.

"All right, people," I said. "It's pretty obvious she's got a hold on a lot of you. This is just a guess," not, "but, you know, bomb Tinker, so I'm thinking bomb implants. I'm going to be calling the PRT now. If you'd like to hang around, I'll explain things to them, and I'm sure they'll be able to remove them. If you want to leave, I won't stop you. This time. I trust none of you are dumb enough to actually attack me."

Speech delivered, I walked up to Bakuda and bent over. The Spacebattler in me debated killing her. She was very dangerous - her time stop bomb was one of the few things I could think of that could put me out of commission - but she could also be very useful. Ultimately, though, the question was moot. While I could intellectually debate the merits of homicide under specific circumstances, I had never been in a position to put those arguments into practice. Callie had. And she - _I_ \- wasn't a murderer, and with her already disabled, that's what this would be: murder.

That was going to make dealing with Coil an... _interesting_ challenge.

Pulling Bakuda's boots off, I carefully removed her toe-ring detonators - I could never remember which foot they were on - and searched her for weapons. Once I was satisfied, I pulled out the phone the PRT had issued me earlier and began dialing.

One kidnapping stopped, one mad bomber subdued, good ties formed with the PRT and New Wave, and inroads made into taking down Coil. Not bad for a couple of days' work.


	16. The Great Game 2-5

**Phenomenal Cosmic Power**  
 _The Great Game 2.5_

After the PRT had taken Bakuda off my hands, I made a small detour to the Medhall building, tapping on a window thirty stories up. The office's sole occupant was clearly surprised to see me, but he deigned to open the window.

"Mister Anders," I greeted him.

"You would be that new hero, Centuria," he said smoothly. He was anxious - no doubt due to his... extracurricular activities - but he hid it well. "Please, come in."

I shook my head and made no move to enter; instead, I remained floating just outside. "I'm afraid I haven't the time."

"A pity," he said, inclining his head. "Are you just here to touch base, or is there some way I can help you?"

"Well," I said, "this may sound odd, but... are you familiar with the villain known as Coil?"

"I've... heard of him," he said, genuinely surprised. "It pays to keep up to date on villain activity in town," he added hastily.

"Well, the fact is, he is gathering or has gathered evidence with intent to out the Empire's identities rather publicly at a point when it is most advantageous to him."

Anders's face stiffened. "And what, pray tell, would that have to do with me?"

"Coil has earned my ire, so I am against anything being advantageous to him," I answered. "Let's just say... Thinker analysis has determined that informing you of this and his own identity of Thomas Calvert will help ensure that that point never comes."

"I see," he said, his voice wintry. "I'm afraid I'm not quite sure of the reasoning behind that, but I'll take your words to heart."

"I'm sure you will, Mister Anders," I said with a nod. "For now, I should go." With that, I flew off.

This was probably a bad idea. I sure as hell didn't give a flying fuck about Kaiser, and I was tipping my hand against him... but giving him the information needed to retaliate in kind if Coil outed the Empire coupled with Coil's own power should make sure it never actually happened, which meant no idiot from CPS was going to grab Aster and send Purity on a rampage.

At least not until I had Coil out of the picture, anyway. He'd probably have the info primed to release if something happened to him purely out of spite. But that was a problem for a different day, and more importantly, a reasonably _predictable_ day.

* * *

The next day, I stared at the text message on my phone. It was from Taylor's burner, asking for a meet.

"Chance that something bad happens to you before I get back if I go to this meeting?"

"Four point one percent."

I nodded. Good. I didn't bother asking if something bad would happen to me. It was all a matter of wording; if something happened to me that would do more than inconvenience me, I wouldn't be getting back, and Coil would move on her, after all.

"It drops to zero point seven percent if you bring me with you."

What.

I blinked, then scowled at the cherubic smile on her face.

* * *

I was back in my Ace look, and we arranged to meet Taylor at the Hillside mall food court. Public location, plenty of witnesses, and enough background noise to make eavesdropping inconvenient. It was perfect.

Taylor hadn't come alone, however.

"You aren't even surprised to see me," Lisa observed with a pout as Dinah and I sat down.

I shook my head. "Not really, no. Frankly, if I had my way, I'd be having this discussion with all of you, but that's not entirely practical."

Lisa raised her hand and waggled it back and forth. "Maybe, maybe not. Play your cards right, I think you could make it stick."

I inclined my head. "On this end, perhaps, but I'd also have to convince the ones on your end to go along with it." I smiled. "I think I'll leave that to you."

Taylor's eyes darted between us irritably. "What are you two talking about?"

I blinked, then reviewed the conversation I'd just had with Lisa. Yeah, I could see how that would be annoying.

"Sorry," I said, shaking my head. "How are you two feeling? I didn't exactly get a chance to check on your health yesterday."

"We're fine," Taylor said. "Thanks for asking."

"You sure?" I prodded. "If you're hurt, I could-"

"No," Lisa interrupted. "That would almost certainly tip off the boss."

I considered that. "Point," I admitted, then leaned forward. "All right, cards on the table. The fact is, your boss is going down. Only way he isn't is if he gives up on Dinah and leaves the city, and I think we all know the odds of that happening."

"Zero point zero one six percent," Dinah supplied before going back to her milkshake.

"There, you see?"

"He could always kill you, you know," Lisa pointed out. "If you're right about his power, you wouldn't even... know... he was... trying..." she trailed off. Her eyes went wide. "Oh. _Oh._ Oh, _wow_."

"Oh, _what?_ " Taylor asked irritably.

I smirked. "Dinah, what are the odds that anyone in this city can actually kill me? Permanently, I mean?"

"I can't answer that," she said, shaking her head. "Not with that wording."

I frowned. "All right," I said, "how about this? If everyone in this city were to try to kill me, cooperating in good faith with perfect coordination and using every resource available to them, what are the chance that I would die permanently?"

"Zero percent," came the answer. Dinah blinked, then stared at me, wide-eyed. "I've... never gotten zero percent before."

"I... didn't think you would either," I admitted, a little wide-eyed. It was... odd, getting confirmation on my immortality. A flat zero meant... what _did_ it mean? Did it mean that, say, even Sting wouldn't kill me? No, wait. Flechette - or was it Foil right now? - wasn't in town yet. Did that mean the PRT wouldn't be able to call her in for whatever reason?

I shook those thoughts off. "Anyway, since we've established your boss is going down, the real question is, what happens to you and your team when he does?"

Taylor and Lisa exchanged uncomfortable looks.

"Taylor, did you call the number?" Her eyes darted to Lisa, but she nodded. "How much did you tell them?"

"Who our boss is," she hedged. "Not his real name yet. I... kind of told them I needed time to do more digging."

"Good." I nodded. "That's good. Gives us time to work up a plan to keep you two out of juvie or prison."

"We need a bargaining chip," Lisa said. "Taylor not so much, since she's got the undercover thing going and you to bat for her, but I need something to turn over as state's evidence. Like our boss."

"And you need it to come from a source other than me that you can point to," I added.

"How _did_ you know all that about him, anyway?" Taylor asked.

I shrugged. "Read it somewhere, believe it or not. Unfortunately, I can't really point you to where."

"You're actually telling the truth," Lisa said, frowning. "Well, for his power, I'm pretty sure I would have figured it out on my own."

"So the problem is his identity," Taylor mused.

Dinah noisily emptied out the last of her milkshake through her straw, interrupting the conversation. "The odds of me getting kidnapped go up by eight percent if the PRT plays hardball with them," she spoke up. "I'll be sure to let them know."

We all looked over at her for a long moment. I shook my head, a smile on my face. "You really are a scheming little schemer who schemes, aren't you?" My smile faded, and I glanced over at Lisa, then back to Dinah. "Am I going to regret having you two meet?"

Lisa grinned. "Probably."

* * *

The next morning, I got up to find two people in the living room. On the sofabed was Dinah, bouncing on her knees and staring at a chess board on the coffee table, biting her lip, an adorable look of intense concentration on her face. She was playing white. In the recliner across from her, playing black, was a dark-haired woman of, I'd guess, Mediterranean descent. She wore a rather nice-looking suit, and a fedora was on her side of the coffee table.

I blinked once. Twice. Then pivoted and made a beeline for the kitchenette.

" _Way_ too early for this."

I normally wasn't much of a coffee drinker. Today, I was going to make an exception.


	17. The Great Game 2-6

**Phenomenal Cosmic Power**  
 _The Great Game 2.6_

"Contessa."

"Centuria."

"So, where do I fit on your Path?"

She cocked her head. "Would you believe any answer I gave you?"

I considered that question for a moment. She had a point. Path to Victory would let her convincingly craft and deliver whatever answer would further her goals, true or not, and I knew it, so I would always doubt whatever she told me. It was the kind of "I know you know I know" bullshit that would just keep circling around until I eventually gave up... with whichever conclusion would most further her goals.

"Fair enough," I acknowledged with a nod. "You want to know what I know about how to beat golden boy."

She nodded. "And your help when the time comes."

I closed my eyes. "I don't know how much good I'll be on that scale, but you have it. Although, there are certain things you can arrange that will, shall we say, _improve_ my commitment to the fight." This wasn't a negotiation. Path to Victory would give her what she wanted from me, one way or the other. The soft sell was the way to go. "In fact, I suspect you know what they are even better than I do."

"I'll see to them."

"Thank you," I said honestly. She'd given her word, and knowing how I felt about people choosing to break their word, that was good enough for me. "As for what I know, there are three things that come immediately to mind."

"I'm listening."

"First, Eidolon. He has doubts about himself, suspicions about the Endbringers niggling at the back of his mind. Whether he's right or wrong, he needs to confront them and put them behind him, because if he doesn't, Scion will kill him with four words. Second, it's about your Path to Victory. You're on a path to a parahuman army."

"They're only intended as a distraction at best," she interjected.

I blinked. "Ah, right. Still, does your power know the difference between an army and a mob?"

"I'm well aware of the difference," she answered, "as is my power."

"If you say so," I said, "but I know this. Part of your organization's past and current activities will, left unchecked, actively sabotage the end goal because of that distinction, distract _you_ more than it will him. I think you know which ones I mean. So you might want to make sure the army you get will be willing to set aside any personal grievances when your actions come to light in order to fight Scion."

She frowned, but said nothing.

"And don't forget. _She_ was able to meddle with your power. You may be the one setting the goals, but I suggest you pay closer attention to who's making the _decisions_ : you or Eden."

"'Eden'?" she asked, cocking her head to the side.

I blinked, then shook my head. "It's... what I call the one you killed, the one you're... experimenting with."

She nodded slowly. "And third?"

"Third... you don't beat Scion. You break him. Remind him of what he lost, drive him to suicide by proxy."

"We've considered that," she said. "Too risky."

They had? Huh. The details you miss. "How risky is too risky when it's the only chance we have?" I countered. "There is no golden bullet. After this long, after Eidolon, I think you realize that by now."

"That's it?"

"That's what came off the top of my head," I answered with a shrug. "If I think of anything else, I'll, I dunno, start planning to publicly expose Cauldron or something."

"No need," she said quickly. "I'll ensure you have access to Doormaker."

"That _would_ simplify things," I agreed, then paused as something else came to me. "Wait, two more things just hit me. There's a Ward, cape name Flechette or Foil, not sure which she's using right now. Her power can breach dimensional barriers, and I think she can kill Endbringers. Her shard is the one the entities use to kill other entities, and it hasn't changed in the last few million years. With its restrictions, I doubt it can kill him by itself, but even if you can't lift those restrictions, it can still open the door to his real body."

"And the other?"

"There's some hobo in the UK that Scion listens to; he's the one who got him into the whole superhero thing," I said. Now what was that guy's name? Damn it, I couldn't remember. "I don't know who he is, though, and I don't know how you can use that, but some time this year, he'll convince Scion to try to kill the Endbringers. Barring butterflies, Behemoth will die in... India, I think."

She nodded slowly. "We can use that. We can _definitely_ use that." She turned to Dinah and said, "I look forward to finishing our game, Miss Alcott. Door me."

After Contessa left, I turned and looked at Dinah.

"What?" she said innocently. "I had no idea who she was or that she was coming."

"Oh, I didn't think you had," I said. "What I want to know is, what else have you two been scheming together?"

She gave me a cherubic smile.

I've been spending too much time around Thinkers. I needed a break.

* * *

And by "break," I _clearly_ meant "breaking skulls." At least, that was Vicky's suggestion, which is how I found myself flying with her over Brockton Bay, looking for trouble.

Or Nazis. Either one worked.

"So, what have you been up to?" she called. We were flying low and slow, since neither of us had the kind of enhanced senses needed to spot trouble from high altitude. Even so, we had to raise our voices to hear each other.

"Not much," I answered. "Working a few angles, got a line in with my informant, possibly a second one willing to turn state's, you know how it goes."

She made a face. "Not really. I've always preferred the straightforward approach: fly in, punch bad guys. That cloak and dagger bullshit is for the birds."

"I don't blame you," I said as we turned our attention back to the city below. "I suppose it doesn't exactly fit New Wave ideals on transparency, either."

"Mugging," she called and pointed. "Over there."

A mugging. How refreshingly simple.

After a moment's observation, I revised that assessment. Three skinheads were blocking a dead end alleyway, and inside the alley was a mixed-race couple on their knees. The odds of it being a simple mugging had just dropped sharply.

"I'll-" Glory Girl started, but I was already diving down. A cosmic energy construct sprang up around the three skinheads, keeping them in place.

"What the-?"

I landed daintily between them and their erstwhile victims. "Hi, I'm Centuria," I said, giving a deliberately cutesy wave. "I'll be your arresting hero this evening. Would you please be so kind as to place all your weapons on the ground?"

"Fuck you, bitch!" the leader retorted, pointing a pistol at me.

I waved a finger at him. "No, Bitch is an Undersider. I'm Centuria. And I wouldn't pull that trigger if I were you," I warned. "That force field's strong enough to shrug off an anti-tank rocket. A peashooter like that? The bullet's just going to bounce, and guess who's in the line of fire if it does?" The gunman faltered. Without waiting for an answer, I pulled out some zip ties and tossed them in, briefly making a small gap in the cosmic construct to let them through. "I'd appreciate it if you zip tied each other for me."

"Oh, come on!" the leader whined. "Can't we have a little dignity here?"

I glanced over my shoulder at the couple behind me. "How much dignity were they letting you have?" I asked.

The olive-skinned man answered angrily, "They wanted me to lick their boots."

I smiled and turned to the three skinheads.

* * *

"Well, that was a disappointment," Vicky complained as we flew off, having turned the three E88 gangbangers over to the BBPD.

"What?" I asked. "We went in, saved the victims, and got the bad guys. What more do you want?"

"You mean _you_ went in, saved the victims, and got the bad guys," she griped. "It was anticlimactic. I didn't even get to _do_ anything."

"I prefer a minimum force approach," I said with a shrug. "Less chance I have to heal someone when all's said and done, and that's _always_ a plus."

She sighed. "I guess you're right."

Heh. She looked so adorable when she was disappointed.


	18. The Great Game 2-7

**Phenomenal Cosmic Power**  
 _The Great Game 2.7_

I was waiting outside Winslow again.

"Hey, Tay," I said as I walked up to her, tossing a warning glare at the trio. Once again, Sophia backed off, shooting me a wary look. It made me wonder what she was telling Emma, given their strong/weak bullshit.

Startled, Taylor blinked at me. "Um, Callie. What- what are you doing here?"

I shrugged. "School's out, right? I'm free for the day, so I thought we could hang out."

What can I say? I was bored. And contrary to what Vicky would have you believe, you can only beat up so many gangbangers before even that gets boring too.

"Oh. Um, actually, I was going to meet Lisa."

"Even better!" I said, falling in step beside her. I stopped myself short as I realized how presumptious I'd just been. "U-unless I'd be intruding?"

"No!" She shook her head. "No, it's... I don't mind."

Whew. That would have been awkward.

We continued on our way, and after we got on the bus, I asked, "So, what have you been up to?"

"Um, not much," she answered. "Just... getting by, you know? How's Dinah, by the way?"

"She's fine," I assured her. "We stay in touch."

Between trying to figure out how best to deal with Coil, I'd wondered just how many times in how many different ways he had tried to nab her. I wasn't going to fool myself - he almost certainly knew where she was staying by now - but there wasn't really much he could do to stop me from popping his head like a grape if anything happened to her.

Yeah, I said I wasn't a killer. And I'm not. Technically. And knowing for _absolute certain_ that killing him if he did anything to Dinah would retroactively ensure he _didn't_ do whatever he did... well, if it didn't actually happen, it didn't count, right?

The Batman Gambit at its finest.

 _In fact... everything okay, right now, Dinah?_

 _Everything's fine._

Taylor shivered. "That is _so_ weird," she muttered.

"You do realize your own power probably operates on similar principles, right?" I pointed out. The bus was practically empty, so there wasn't much risk of being overheard.

She looked thoughtful at that. "Huh."

* * *

"Taylor, Callie, good to see you!" Lisa was all smiles; she didn't even bat an eye at my presence. After a moment's consideration, I mentally shrugged it off. She probably _hadn't_ been expecting me, just able to shake off the surprise faster due to her power.

Come to think of it, me not being bothered would probably annoy her more.

"You _are_ doing it on purpose."

I blinked, then shrugged my shoulders. "Well, yeah."

"You're not even denying it."

"What would be the point?" I asked rhetorically. I waved a hand vaguely. "Okay, you win. You can read me like a book. Whatever."

She twitched. "Come on," she said with a huff, "let's go shopping." She made a show of looking us over. "You clearly need to update your wardrobe as much as Taylor does."

I looked down at what I was wearing. Jeans, T-shirt, leather jacket, all part of the image I'd crafted. I looked back up at her.

"What's wrong with my wardrobe?"

* * *

I shouldn't have asked. Or at least I should have seen this coming.

I had to admit, Lisa knew fashion, but the black tube top and short shorts were a bit too Faith Lehane for my taste. Aaand it was really turning heads. A lot of heads. Curse you, Attractive feat!

A bit of clarification on that. Centuria - _I_ \- had the Attractive feat. Said feat, as its name implies, represents good looks. I had included it in the build mostly for some nice bonuses to Bluff and Diplomacy checks when it applied, but the thing is, most characters didn't have it. Most _comic book superheroines_ didn't have it, despite the fact that most of them could easily make a living as fashion models. Hell, in the DC licensed third edition, _Black Canary_ didn't have it, and neither did Supergirl, Huntress, or any of the Batgirls, which should tell you something right there.

So yeah.

"Lisa," I said, edging my way back to the dressing room as discreetly as I could, "this... really isn't... you know, _me_..."

"Callie, is that you?"

Oh, no. No no no. I knew that voice.

I turned.

"Vicky!" I squeaked. Goddamn it, why was I squeaking? "Um, hi!"

Yep, just as I feared. It was Victoria Dallon's glorious self, and behind her, freckles and all, was Amy. Vicky's aura was turned down to a minimum, thankfully, but it was still there. Will save for the win! Hopefully, anyway.

She made a show of looking me over, then gave me a thumbs up. "Nice choice. You make that look _good_."

"Um, thanks," I mumbled. I could feel my cheeks heating up.

"I'm serious," she said, draping an arm over my shoulders. "If I swung that way, _I'd_ make a pass at you."

That was the point when I buried my face in my hands. I just _knew_ Amy would be glaring daggers at me for that.

"So, who are your friends?" Vicky asked. She took hold of a few strands of hair in my wig. "And what's with the wig?"

Before I could answer, she stiffened and pulled away. I peeked through my hands and saw her looking back and forth between Lisa and Taylor, then between me and Lisa, then between me and Taylor, all as realization slowly dawned in her eyes. "Oh. Oh! _Ohh..._ "

Oh, that's right. Vicky wasn't _actually_ an idiot. She was just stubbornly, _blindingly_ oblivious (pun totally intended) to certain things.

Why couldn't this be one of them?

Vicky turned back to me, placing her hands on my shoulders, and gave me a serious look.

"Why didn't you tell me you were gay?"

I resisted the urge to facepalm. Barely.


	19. Interlude 2A - Lisa

**Phenomenal Cosmic Power**  
 _Interlude 2A - Lisa_

"What? No! It's not like that! We're just friends!"

 _They know,_ Lisa concluded, her smile twisting into a stiff rictus as a chatty Hurricane Victoria attached herself and her sister to their little group. Victoria's attempt to cover up her realization by allegedly misunderstanding their relationship had been clumsy, relying on the dumb blonde stereotype she only superficially resembled. Lisa had seen through it easily enough, but she was more than willing to play along if it meant not getting squished by Alexandria, Jr.

With Glory Girl's appearance, powers, and straightforward approach to problem solving, it was easy to forget there was a pretty sharp mind hiding behind the good looks.

Lisa wouldn't be making _that_ mistake again any time soon. Assuming she survived this. Glory Girl could squash her like a bug, and there wasn't a thing she could do to stop her, but it looked like New Wave's golden girl was going to play along, and Panacea was following her sister's lead.

 _Thank God._

"Hmm," Victoria mused, looking over the figure-hugging dress they had cajoled Callie into. "I think she's more of a blue than a red. What do you think, Lisa?"

Lisa turned her attention back to the much less dangerous topic at hand. After a moment's consideration, she nodded. "I have to agree. Maybe a midnight blue?"

"Yeah," Victoria said, clapping her hands together, "that'd be perfect!"

Callie grumbled something under her breath but dutifully headed back to the racks in search of a blue version. Lisa watched her as she disappeared into the swirl of clothing.

Callie was a puzzle to Lisa. She didn't act like a new trigger - too mentally well-balanced and far too confident in her powers - but Lisa had done the research; there _was_ no cape with that kind of power set around, unless Eidolon had taken to crossdressing. Which was a possibility that Lisa wasn't about to discount entirely just yet. It didn't help that her power couldn't decide if Callie was a thirty-year-old man or a fifty-year-old woman. Sometimes - like now - Lisa's power was even convinced Callie was a sixteen-year-old girl, but only when she was doing, well, _teenager_ things. Like shopping. Some sort of Stranger power?

Or maybe she wasn't as mentally stable as Lisa had thought. _Something to consider._

And then there was the way she _knew_ things and how she went about using that knowledge. She seemed to have taken a personal interest in a select few people - Dinah, Taylor, _possibly_ Amy, though she hadn't really acted on it yet, and even Lisa herself to some degree - but otherwise seemed... detached? Adrift? Like she didn't really care about anything.

 _No, cares about people, not places. Considers Earth-Bet expendable, doesn't see it as home. Not from Earth-Bet._

That brought her thoughts to a screeching halt as Victoria called out, "Hey! Find a red one in Taylor's size too!"

"Yeah, yeah..." Callie replied.

That was when Amy Dallon emerged, wearing the yellow sundress they'd picked out for her.

 _Tired, self-loathing,_ Lisa's power supplied. Well, _that_ was more than a little terrifying, given Panacea's powers. _Doesn't want to be here, hates shopping, here because of Victoria, attitude to Callie not normal, jealous because-_

Lisa closed her eyes and suppressed a groan. _Really?_ Really? _I do_ not _need this!_

* * *

Right around lunch time, they wound up accompanying the Dallons to Fugly Bob's and were greeted by a quartet. An all-male quartet.

"Really?" Lisa blurted out. " _Four_ boyfriends, Glory Girl? One guy not enough for you?"

 _Why?_ she immediately asked herself. Why _can't I keep my mouth shut?_

Callie gently cuffed her upside the head before Victoria could. _Thank you, Callie,_ she thought. She knew Victoria had occasional problems with self-control, enough that her sister - the _healer_ \- was covering for her in some fashion. How far those problems went with a supervillain she was _pretending_ not to recognize wasn't something she wanted to find out. Ever.

"This is Dean, my boyfriend," Victoria said with a mock scowl. "Those are his friends, Carlos, Chris, and Dennis. Guys, this is Callie, and these are her friends, Lisa and Taylor."

 _Dean is comfortable openly dating Glory Girl. Cape. Glory Girl knows his identity, wouldn't date a villain. Ward. Dean's friends, different ages and social circles, not likely school friends or family friends. All Wards. Fuck._

Lisa screwed her eyes shut as Dean gave her an odd look. _Dean is concerned, responding to my emotions. Gallant. Double fuck._

Yeah, _this_ wasn't awkward at all.

* * *

 _At least Taylor's having a good time,_ Lisa consoled herself. Now, if only she could figure out a non-suspicious way to explain to Taylor that _Aegis_ was the cute Hispanic guy hitting on her... and that yes, he _was_ hitting on her; with her self-esteem issues, convincing her of _that_ was going to be an exercise in frustration all by itself.

"Are you okay?" Lisa practically jumped out of her skin and turned to find Gall- _Dean's_ concerned face looking at her. "You seem kind of... on edge," he added.

"I'm fine," she said hurriedly. "Just some... personal stuff. Very. Personal. Stuff."

"Okay..." he said, backing off. He wasn't convinced, but - _Thank God!_ \- he was willing to give her space. She supposed it _would_ be a little weird for him to pry into his girlfriend's friend's friend's personal issues on the day they first met.

To distract herself, Lisa let her gaze drift over to Taylor and Carlos. "I hope your friend treats her right, though. I'd hate to have to hurt him."

"Carlos is a good guy," Dean protested. "Solid, dependable."

"Even if he weren't, don't worry about it," Callie interjected from where she lazed in the corner of the table, _watching_ everyone. She was enjoying this! "I'll give him the shovel speech later," she assured them. "Or have Vicky do it if I don't get the chance."

Lisa blinked. _Shovel speech?_ she wondered. _Fictional reference to protective sibling/close friend speech: threaten with shovel, implying dual purpose as murder weapon and for body disposal. Not serious._

"Oh," she said faintly. "That's... good to hear."

* * *

"Are you okay, Lisa?" Taylor asked as the group went their separate ways. Callie was heading back home - _to link back up with Dinah_ \- while Victoria was dragging Amy and Dean off somewhere. The rest of the Wards were presumably headed home as well.

"Yeah," Lisa said. "Just thinking. So, what do you think of Carlos?"

Taylor blushed. "He's... nice." She frowned. "Not sure about the other guys, though. Chris seemed... distracted, I guess?"

 _Tinker. Kid Win. Frustrated, distracted. Hasn't found his specialty yet._

"He... probably has a lot on his mind," Lisa offered.

"And Dennis..." Taylor frowned. "He seemed really jumpy, for some reason."

 _Twitchy. Normally outgoing. Compensating for and recovering from recent psychological trauma. Others giving him space, aware of trauma. Clockblocker._

"Probably has to do with when you covered him in bugs," Lisa mused aloud.

Taylor froze. " _What?_ "

Lisa blinked. "Oh. Uh. Shit. Those guys... they're Wards. Dennis is Clockblocker, Chris is Kid Win, and Dean is Gallant. And, uh, Carlos is Aegis."

Taylor looked at her, studied her. _Suspicious. Thinks I lied to her._

 _Wait, what? About_ what?

"So much for 'cops and robbers' and 'unwritten rules,' if you'll break them so easily," Taylor said. Her voice sounded calm, but Lisa could hear the buzzing around them. She was pushing her emotions away, into the nearby bugs. Neat trick. Pants-wettingly terrifying, but neat. Taylor tilted her head. "I guess Callie was right."

"What?"

"So," Taylor said, ignoring her question, "how far were you planning on leading me down the rabbit hole before telling me the truth, Lisa? How much freedom, how much choice, how much _control_ over my life would I have had left once you were done manipulating me?"

 _Trust issues. Feels hurt, betrayed. Doesn't trust me._

 _A little late for that now, power!_

"Taylor," Lisa protested, "I swear, I just wanted to help you."

" _And_ recruit a new cape into your gang while you were at it, maybe another pawn in your game against Coil," Taylor continued for her. Lisa winced. "You know, Callie helped me too, but _she_ didn't feel the need to lie to me or manipulate me into a life of crime."

"Taylor-"

"Don't," the brunette interrupted. "Just... don't. Not now. I'd... really prefer not talking to you right now."

* * *

A/N: So. Uh. Yeah. That happened. Unintended consequences, I guess. Don't you just love it when characters you're writing manage to completely blindside you? Still, poor Lisa.


	20. Checkmate 3-1

**Phenomenal Cosmic Power**  
 _Checkmate 3.1_

I had been hanging out with Taylor again - the girl needed a friend more than anything else, as far as I was concerned - but she had begged off in favor of a prior engagement.

Probably a meeting with the Undersiders, come to think of it.

So I headed home.

I hadn't invested in Uncanny Dodge or Detect Minds or anything like that; while they certainly would have fit Centuria's power profile, they wouldn't have lined up with the play style I had envisioned for her. From another perspective, I - _she_ \- had simply never bothered to train or develop my telepathic abilities much at all. Still, while my Notice skill wasn't exceptional or superhuman, it _was_ at the higher end of the range considered to represent a professional level of training. That was good enough to tell me one very important thing on my way home.

I was being followed.

 _Dinah,_ I sent the thought out, _something's come up. I may be late._

 _Ninety-seven percent chance it'll work out better if you come straight home._

...what?

 _I'm serious._

 _All right,_ I thought back. _Fine._

I caught a hint of... amusement? Excitement? Well, it couldn't be Coil's men, then, could it? Then again, by now, he almost certainly already knew my address and identity and that Dinah was staying with me, which would make following me pointless.

Dinah was in my bedroom when I got back to the apartment, and shortly after I locked the apartment door behind me, the person tailing me revealed her presence.

"You know, you're smarter than most."

I blinked and turned back around. Standing across the room from me, next to the bedroom door, was Shadow Stalker, pointing her crossbow at me; there was also no mistaking the gleaming tip of the decidedly lethal-looking bolt loaded into it. "Shadow Stalker," I said calmly, "what brings you here?"

I brought my force field up. I didn't really need it, not against her, but better safe than sorry, and there was no reason not to; it didn't glow or anything, so it wasn't like I was giving myself away.

"You, obviously," she said. "I have to admit, I wouldn't expect a new cape to start with the school punching bag. Wasn't a bad idea - most people would overlook someone like Hebert - but then you had to tip off that you knew who I was."

"That was a warning," I said evenly, crossing my arms and leaned against the door nonchalantly. "One, it seems, you've either failed to understand or chosen to ignore, so let me clarify: Taylor Hebert is off-limits."

"The thing I don't get," she said, ignoring me. "Why her? You knew who I was. You had to know I would be useful, that I was far more valuable."

I rolled my eyes. "Honestly? No, you're not. One of her is worth ten _thousand_ of you. And that's being _really_ generous to you."

She snarled wordlessly, her grip on her crossbow tightening.

"So, what exactly are you planning on doing now that you're here?" I asked. "Wasn't it enough that you stuffed that poor girl in her locker with biohazardous materials? That's false imprisonment and aggravated assault at minimum. Conspiracy, when you factor in how much prep work you and your little gang of thugs put into it. Didn't gut shooting Grue with a lethal bolt a while back sate your psychopathic bloodlust? _That's_ aggravated assault, battery, and attempted murder."

"Easy," she said. "I'll kill you, spin a tale about you being a new Master planning to take over the city, starting with my school, blame the lethal ammo on you, and come out smelling like roses. Better yet, even if Hebert ever grows enough of a spine to say anything about me, it'll all be blamed on subconscious triggers you planted in her mind."

I gave a derisive snort. "Two problems with that," I said blithely. "One, I'm not a Master. If I were, I wouldn't have given you a warning; I would have simply controlled you into doing what I wanted. For that matter, if I were, you've given me plenty of time to use whatever Master power I might have on you. Two, you can't kill me."

In general, Ultima were pretty hard to kill to begin with. Even if you managed to pull it off, you had to decapitate them to make it stick, and not even _that_ would work on me.

"You don't think I can?" she sneered. "You don't think I have the guts? It wouldn't be the first time."

Man, she was really digging herself in deep. Too bad I wasn't recording this for the PRT.

"No," I said, shaking my head. "I mean you _literally_ can't do it. I'm not sure it's even physically possible, and even if it were, _you_ certainly don't have the resources to pull it off."

That's when she fired. I dodged. Not that I needed to, but I'd rather not give the game away just ye-

The bedroom door opened, I heard the crackling of electricity, and Shadow Stalker fell twitching on the floor. I blinked.

"Dinah?"

She held up the stun gun. "Our friend with the nice hat gave it to me," she explained before jabbing Shadow Stalker again to keep her down. "Along with the recording equipment," she added.

...

Goddamn Path to Victory. Did Contessa manipulate Sophia into this somehow? I wouldn't put it past her.

At least now I knew one of the things those two had been plotting. Shaking my head, I moved to tie up our captive. An extension cord with a lamp plugged into the other end and turned on should do the trick.

Alas, I didn't have any Christmas lights lying around.

Then I made a show of pulling out my PRT issued phone and dialing.

My "secret" identity was in tatters by this point, anyway. I wasn't sure I could name even a single person I had met as Centuria who _didn't_ know my identity.

"Hello, this is Centuria," I said, savoring the look in her eyes. "Would the PRT care to explain why Shadow Stalker just tried to murder me in my own apartment?"

* * *

The PRT had come and carted Shadow Stalker away, along with copies of Dinah's recordings, leaving two agents behind to take our statements. From some of the muttering I heard, it sounded like the mayor had somehow gotten wind of what had happened and was making noises about how Wards _should_ treat independent heroes who were personally responsible for rescuing and protecting members of his family. I was walking the last two agents to the elevator when the elevator doors dinged opened ahead of us. The person inside - young, male, well-built, and dark-skinned, much to my sinking stomach - was laden with a stack of boxes, one of which was tipping over.

"Whoa!" I said. "Lemme help with that."

"Uh, thanks," he said as I relieved him of some of his burden, taking about a third of the boxes. Hmm, mostly plug and play furniture. I guess my new neighbor was _finally_ actually moving in.

Between the two of us - and a judicious and subtle application of telekinesis - the boxes were a lot more manageable. When we got to the door, he hollered, "Taylor!"

The door opened, and yes, that was Taylor Hebert all right. She covered her surprise at seeing me pretty well, enough that Brian didn't seem to notice. I wasn't sure she actually recognized me, though, since I usually wore a black wig around her.

Once we had dropped off the packages, he turned to me and flashed me a smile. "Thanks again. I'm Brian," he said. "Brian Laborn. Just moving in."

"I figured," I said. "I'm Callie. I live across the hall. Vicky mentioned you."

"Cool," he said. "And, uh, this is Taylor, a friend of mine."

I gave her a friendly smile and nod. _Play along. You don't know me._

A spark of recognition crossed her face. "Pleased to meet you," she said.

"She's helping me move in, but I figured I could handle that last load myself." He chuckled. "Guess I was wrong." His eyes darted back to the elevator. "So, uh, who were those guys? Friends of yours?"

I shook my head. "Cops," I said truthfully. The PRT _was_ a law enforcement organization, after all. "I was attacked earlier, and they were here to take my statement, that's all."

"Are you okay?" he asked, brow furrowing in concern. Oh, wasn't he sweet? Dumb as a box of rocks when it came to career choices, but sweet. For her part, Taylor frowned, equal parts confused and concerned.

I waved it off. "I'm fine. She didn't even lay a finger on me before Dinah saved the day." I glanced back at my apartment room door, and yep, there she was. She scurried over to me, and I crouched down to pull her into a one-armed hug. "My little hero."

She beamed at him.

"Dinah," I said, "this is Brian, my- _our_ new neighbor and his friend Taylor. Vicky mentioned him, remember?" She nodded. "Brian, Taylor, this is-"

"Dinah Alcott," she interrupted. "I was almost kidnapped by some creepy guy with a skintight outfit a while back. He was gonna keep me drugged and compliant while he used me." She shuddered, and I tightened the hug; she also gave an entirely genuine - or perhaps just very convincing; I couldn't tell - sniffle. "That's why I'm staying in-cog-ni-to" - cheeky girl; she had no problems with that word normally - "with Callie." She paused and looked up at Brian innocently. "You won't tell anyone, right?"

And this year's award for best child actress goes to Dinah Alcott. I could _see_ the guilt growing on Brian's face as he connected the dots; my debut as Centuria alongside Glory Girl and stopping the kidnapping of the mayor's niece had shoved the Undersiders' bank robbery off the front page.

"I just hope someone takes that bas- that guy down before he finds someone else who... meets his criteria," I carefully not-lied. "People like that? They're never... _satisfied_ , and they won't stop until someone _makes_ them stop."

And there it is, guilt turning to nausea as the implications I'd hinted at clicked.

Manipulative? Me? Nahhh. Not my fault if Brian were to take the _totally accurate information_ I gave him and come to a slightly... _less_ accurate conclusion.


	21. Checkmate 3-2

**Phenomenal Cosmic Power**  
 _Checkmate 3.2_

"So," Taylor said. She stood, arms crossed, in my apartment, leaning against my front door. It was about an hour after we met at Brian's door, and Dinah had made herself scarce. The little traitor. "What are the odds of you living across the hall from Brian?" she asked guardedly.

"Why don't you ask him?" I groused. " _I've_ been living here for weeks; _he_ just moved in."

"Oh," she said, her shoulders slumping, then tensing up again as suspicion crossed her face. She glanced over her shoulder, back at the door. "Do you think...?"

I shook my head. "Doubt it. He was really surprised to see Dinah here. I don't think he even knows who your boss is, with or without the mask."

"I see," she said neutrally. She glanced at the bedroom door. "That was quite a performance Dinah put on," she added.

"Surprised me too," I admitted with a shrug. "Precogs, what can I say?"

We lapsed into silence for a moment.

"By the way," I said, breaking the silence, "I thought you should know. The Wards kinda picked out a name for you after the bank job." I'd been meaning to bring this up since the fight with Bakuda, but it kept slipping my mind. "They're calling you Skitter. If you've got something else in mind, you should _probably_ act quickly on that."

She winced. "Yeah," she said unenthusiastically. "I heard. Not a big fan of it, but it works, and it's better than anything I can think of." She shook her head. "Now, what was that about you getting attacked?"

My turn to wince. "Uh, yeah. About that. I've got good news and bad news."

"Start with the bad news," she prompted.

"Well, I would," I admitted, "but it'll actually make more sense if I start with the good news first."

She rolled her eyes and sighed. " _Fine_."

"Sophia Hess should no longer be a problem for you," I said hurriedly. "And there's a good chance the others will get taken to task as well. Along with the Winslow administration."

Taylor stared at me. I resisted the urge to cringe. "What. Did. You. Do?"

"Nothing!" was my instant reply. I don't think she believed me. "I swear!" I added. A moment later, I sighed. "Okay, look, remember when we first met?" She flinched. Oh, right. The bank. "Outside the school, I mean," I clarified.

"Yeah?" she confirmed warily.

"Well, the trio were about to meddle, but I couldn't afford that, so I kind of sent Sophia a telepathic warning to back off," I admitted. "I guess she took offense at the idea of a cape actually caring about you and didn't realize who I was, so she tried to murder me, planning on setting me up as a villainous Master." I tilted my head. "It, uh, didn't quite work out according to plan."

"So... those guys were PRT?"

"Yeah." I nodded. "Let's just say, the PRT doesn't take kindly to a probationary Ward attempting to frame and murder a new and powerful independent hero with good PR and connections, and the mayor made his displeasure with the idea of a Ward trying that against a hero who kept his niece unkidnapped _very_ clear."

Taylor blinked. "So... she's..."

"Under arrest for home invasion and attempted murder while they process her through Master/Stranger protocols on the off-chance she's been Mastered or replaced by a pod person or something," I finished for her. " _And_ she was recorded basically admitting to the locker. _And_ trying to murder Grue a while back. _And_ killing at least one other person. _Plus_ there's whatever evidence is on her phone or among her personal effects. From what I understand, they're pulling out all the stops on the investigation, even looking into her probation officer, and once they clear her through M/S protocols, if they determine she's really her, they're pretty much going to throw the book at her. So yeah."

She stared at me. I couldn't read her body language, but I wasn't hearing the buzzpocalypse, so that was a good sign, right? "And the bad news?" she asked.

"Wellll..." I hedged, "if the PRT goes looking into _why_ I was hanging out with you to begin with, they might piece together your identity."

She nodded slowly. "That's right. That was why you didn't report her yourself."

I nodded. "I told them my Thinker power told me you needed a friend - it's technically true - but I don't know how well that'll hold up in the long run."

She shook her head. "I guess I'll just have to be careful," she said with a sigh. "You know, Callie, that's what I like about you. You don't lie to me, even to make me feel better. Or, I guess, even when you screw up."

I shrugged. "I've found that honesty is usually the best policy," I said with a shrug. "Even - _especially_ \- when it means suffering setbacks, consistent honesty offers its own reward in _reputation_. A reputation for dishonesty costs you a lot."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, think about it, Taylor. With everything she's done to you, would you trust Emma to return a favor or keep a promise?"

Taylor snorted. "You're joking, right?"

"And a reputation for dishonesty is when _everyone_ thinks that of someone."

She tilted her head thoughtfully. "I get it."

"Now, a reputation for honesty? That opens doors, wins allies, and attracts opportunities. And, on the very, very rare occasions lying _is_ absolutely necessary, it makes you a lot more convincing. I try to avoid that, though."

She frowned at that, eyes narrowing suspiciously. I said nothing. "You lied to Brian, though."

I pursed my lips. "Caught that, did you?" I acknowledged. How to explain? That part had been all me, really. I - _Callie_ \- had absolutely hated the very idea of deceiving or manipulating people; secret identities and combat feints were one thing, and even the occasional infiltration mission had been borderline for her, but the kind of calculated deception I'd pulled on Brian was on a whole other level entirely. "That's actually an excellent example of what I was saying about how honesty helps in deception," I said. "It's hard to pick out a lie when there isn't one, and everything I told him was true, as far as I know. But yes, I misled him, _deceived_ him."

"Why?" she asked, wrapping her arms around herself and pulling back defensively.

"What were my options, Taylor?" I asked plainly. "Lie to him outright? Blackmail him?" I shook my head. "I don't want him as an enemy. He's made some dumb choices, and some day, he's probably going to answer for them, but his heart was in the right place, and I'm not going to be the one to do that to him if I can help it."

"You could have told him the truth," she said. "We could have brought him into this."

"What? Tell him that Dinah's a precog so powerful Coil - his _boss_ \- would do _anything_ to get his hands on her?" I asked. I shook my head.

"Why not?"

Why not, indeed? From what I remembered, when Coil had revealed his kidnapping and drugging of Dinah to the Undersiders in canon, only Taylor had been bothered for more than a couple of minutes over it. I couldn't trust them. Lisa, at least, had her own reasons for wanting Coil dead, and while I could get Brian to be less enthusiastic about working for Coil with my insinuations, the fact remained that the situation he had put himself in with regard to Aisha...

"Brian may not realize it yet," I answered quietly, "but Coil has leverage on him, and he's the sort of person who wouldn't hesitate to use it."

"What kind of leverage?" she asked with a frown.

"You know Brian's got a sister he's trying to get custody of, right?" I asked. She nodded. "What do you think his odds of getting custody would be if the authorities ever find out he's a supervillain?"

Her eyes widened. "Oh."

"Yeah." I nodded. "'Oh.' For her sake, he's already decided he's perfectly okay with stealing from innocent people and beating the crap out of anyone who gets in his way. With that in mind, if he's given the choice between helping kidnap Dinah or being outed by Coil and losing any chance of ever getting custody of his sister, which way do you think he would go?"

She didn't answer, and I let the question linger.

After a long moment, she broke the silence. "I... I guess I can see that," she allowed. "I suppose the ends justify the means."

" _Sometimes_ , they can," I corrected her. "A little deception - not even technically a lie - against an innocent little girl's freedom? That's an easy, _easy_ call. Take your little undercover operation as another example. Not letting the PRT know everything we know about Coil in order to make _sure_ he goes down and that you and Lisa and maybe the other Undersiders get out of it with a good deal? That's something I, at least, feel is justified. Some would argue that it isn't. On the other hand, others would argue that even murder can be justified, under the right circumstances."

"Like... a kill order?" she hazarded.

"Ehh..." I held my hand up and waggled it back and forth a bit. "Killing someone with a kill order isn't technically murder, since murder is homicide that is _not_ officially sanctioned by the ruling government. That's why active duty combat soldiers, for example, aren't automatically considered murderers. Well, outside demagoguery, anyway." I paused, noting an odd look on her face. "What?"

She shook her head. "Sorry," she said wistfully. "You sound like my mom." I... had nothing to say to that.

So I didn't.

Instead, I shifted back to what I was saying _before_ it got weird. "Anyway, all that aside, it's important to remember that you only ever _need_ to justify the means if the _means themselves_ are wrong, and even if you _can_ justify them, that doesn't make them any less wrong. So if you ever find yourself justifying _everything_ you do? It's probably time to reexamine your situation."

"You've... really thought this through," she mused. "So how do you know when something is justified?"

"Some people look at it as a pure numbers game," I answered, then shook my head. Cauldron was a perfect example of that kind of thinking; I'd have to keep an eye on them. "Personally, I don't subscribe to that. Seeing people as numbers dehumanizes them, and that's the first step to pretty much every act of genocide in human history. As far as I'm concerned, there's no hard and fast rule. If you go far enough, someone will try to stop you, maybe even me, but ultimately, it's up to you to figure out where you're going to draw the line and how far you're willing to push it. No one else can do that for you, because at the end of the day, the only person who actually has to live with you is... you."

I let her digest that.

"Would you lie to me?" she asked quietly. I suspected what she _really_ wanted to ask was if I would mislead her like I had Brian.

"Like I said, I try to avoid getting stuck in that kind of situation," I reminded her, "but if I had to? To save a life or in a situation like with Brian?" I leaned back and sighed. "Yeah," I admitted regretfully. "Yeah, I would."

She looked conflicted over that. Fair enough. But I wasn't going to lie to her - not even _about_ lying to her - unless I really had to. After a moment, her face settled on a determined expression.

" _Have_ you lied to me?"

"No," I said, shaking my head. I met her eyes with mine and elaborated, "There are things I haven't told you: things that don't involve you, things you wouldn't believe, things you can't do anything about, secrets that aren't mine to share. But I haven't lied to you."

She held my gaze for a long moment, then gave a curt nod. "All right."

* * *

A/N: Callie is being honest here. If she _has_ lied to Taylor, I, the author, have forgotten it when Callie wouldn't have, so please let me know so I can make corrections.

This is the chapter that just kept growing. And I seem to have lost the humor somewhere, damn it. Next time!


	22. Checkmate 3-3

**Phenomenal Cosmic Power**  
 _Checkmate 3.3_

Sometimes, I just had to stay with Dinah all day. The odds worked better that way, for whatever reason, and I wasn't about to risk it. Today was one such day. Taylor had left my apartment with a lot to think about last time, so I was giving her a little space, and the Dallon sisters were coming to visit this evening.

I was a little anxious, actually. Vicky had taken me aside after that one day out. Turns out, she _had_ figured out Lisa was an Undersider and had left me with an "I hope you know what you're doing." She apparently hadn't twigged on Taylor, though... but given how much Taylor's personality shifted when she put the mask on, maybe that wasn't so surprising.

"Hey!" I said, waving them in. "How've you two been?"

"Pretty good," Vicky said half-heartedly as they entered my apartment.

I quirked an eyebrow. Vicky was, I'd learned, an _exhausting_ friend to have, and she was the passionate sort. Personally, I'd much rather surf the internet or read a good book in my free time... which I had precious little of these days, between befriending Taylor, plotting against Coil, patrolling, and trying to befriend Amy (who wasn't being very cooperative on that front, I might add). "Half-hearted" wasn't how I'd normally describe her approach to... well, _anything_ , really.

"Something wrong?" I prodded.

Amy answered for her. "Carol's going to be heading out of town soon," she said. "Don't know when she'll be back."

I blinked. "Really?" I asked. "Why?" I couldn't recall anything like this in canon.

"Yeah," Vicky said. "Remember what you told us about Canary?" I nodded, and she continued, "Well, it kind of came up at home, so Mom did some digging, and now, she's on the warpath. She's been on the phone pretty much nonstop the last week, and she's volunteered to take Canary's case pro bono."

"'Pro bono'?" I asked with a frown. "I would think Canary could afford it."

"Pro bono," Vicky confirmed. "And yeah, she could, if they hadn't frozen her accounts."

"They froze her accounts?" I hadn't known that. And now I was starting to sound like a parrot.

"Yeah," Vicky said, her face twisting in disgust. "Most of her money came from her music, and she's under investigation for using her Master power to illegally boost sales. Which is bullshit, because they went ahead and moved forward with trying her on all the _other_ charges while _that_ investigation is still open."

I could see her point. How could you even begin to prove such an accusation in a court of law? And while the investigation remained open, the assets would remain frozen, preventing her from hiring the best legal representation she could actually afford.

"Anyway," Vicky continued, arms crossed, "with Mom out of town, Dad's going to need us at home more."

I blinked as I processed that. Oh. Yeah. Right. Clinical depression.

"I understand," I said with a nod. And I did. Family came first. Well, mostly. Unless the family you're talking about is your Nazi supervillain half-brother.

I considered the ramifications of this. I suppose it meant I'd be getting to know the Pelhams better. Leaning back, I mused aloud, "On the other hand, maybe we could visit Amy, instead? Help her out in the hospital? I mean, I _do_ have a healing power, after all."

They stared at me.

"What?"

"I'd forgotten about that power," Vicky admitted. She shook her head. "You _sure_ you don't want to join New Wave? PHO's already half-convinced you're a long-lost sister as it is."

...

"What?"

"You're an Alexandria package who can throw energy blasts, make energy constructs, and heal," Amy pointed out, a hint of weariness in her voice; I guess this must have been a popular topic. "That covers just about every power New Wave has except Carol's Breaker state and Vicky's aura. And arguably, your telepathy could be considered a variation of Vicky's aura."

"Some people are already calling you 'the Trump that ate New Wave,'" Dinah chimed in. "Ninety-eight percent chance that'll start trending nationwide if you publicly confirm your healing power. There weren't that many witnesses to when you healed me, no one recorded it, and you haven't used it since, so it's just rumor right now."

Oh.

* * *

Just because I had to stay with Dinah all day didn't mean we had to stay _in_ all day, though. We ended up heading out for dinner, some Italian restaurant on the boardwalk called San Giorgio. Vicky's suggestion. It was a bit high-end for my taste, but we did get a private booth. The food was pretty rich.

Probably the most pragmatic benefit of befriending Vicky was the line it gave me into the PRT's activities behind the scenes. Via Gallant, I suspected, but I didn't know for sure. Apparently, _something_ had set the director off, and she'd started a massive security review of all ENE personnel, even before the fiasco with Shadow Stalker. And _that_ had her doubling down hard, going through everyone's background with a fine-toothed comb.

 _Good._ If Coil's moles in the PRT could be linked to Coil, they would no longer be useful to him. More, if they could be linked to _Thomas Calvert_ , that would put his civilian identity under scrutiny he couldn't afford. He had to be feeling the pressure.

The situation with the gangs was decidedly grimmer. With Lung and Bakuda in custody, the ABB was vulnerable, and the city's cape scene was holding its collective breath. No one had made a move _yet_ , but it was only a matter of time before someone - probably the Empire - tried to carve out a piece of ABB turf for themselves.

But as chatty as Vicky was, Amy remained quiet throughout the meal, resisting every effort I made to coax her into getting involved in the conversation. She seemed to resent me. Probably because of Vicky. For her part, Vicky just rolled her eyes and shook her head after my first couple of attempts to include Amy.

Dinah, on the other hand, looked far too amused for comfort. Finally, as we split the check, Dinah tugged on my sleeve and whined quietly, "I need to use the bathroom."

"Sure," I said as I sidled out of the booth.

As I moved to follow her, she stopped and glared at me. "I _can_ go twenty feet by myself," she said.

What?

"Oh, whoops!" Vicky said. I looked over and saw her with a dollop of marinara sauce on her shirt. "I'll go with her. I need to clean my shirt anyway."

I looked at Dinah, then to Vicky, then back to Dinah. Finally, I relented. "All right. Fine," I said, sitting back down.

After a few minutes, I frowned and looked at Amy. "We've been maneuvered, haven't we?"

"Yep," she agreed.

Were they trying to hook us up? Granted, technically, I did swing that way, and I knew Amy did, but it seemed kind of out of the blue.

"Listen, Callie," she said after another long moment, "I know you're trying to be nice, but don't bother. You don't stand a chance with her anyway; she's straight."

Wait, what?

It took me a moment to parse what she'd said, but when I did, I found myself staring at her. "You think I'm hitting on your _sister?_ "

She rolled her eyes. "I'm not blind," she said. "I can tell you're attracted to her."

I snorted. "Who _wouldn't_ be?" I immediately winced at my choice of words, despite how valid the question was. Blonde, buxom, energetic... none of those described my usual preferences, but the trifecta meant Vicky most definitely qualified for the Power Girl exception. I shook my head. "I mean, she has that aura of hers, after all. Anyway, no, I'm not trying to get in your sister's pants, and I'm not trying to butter her up by being nice to you. I just thought you could use a friend."

"Uh huh," she said skeptically. "Riiight."

"Amy," I said patiently, "I can't imagine the stress you must be under, but I think I have a pretty good idea."

"Then why did you volunteer to join me?" she retorted.

"A burden shared is a burden halved," I explained with a shrug, "and I've got a strong back."


End file.
